


The Summer List

by waywardaussies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bucket List, Homophobic Language, M/M, Summer Romance, Teen Romance, a lot of them are really minor characters but i figured id add them, also sam and jess is only really implied but again i thought id add it, slight homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5105807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardaussies/pseuds/waywardaussies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was cleaning out some of my drawers yesterday when I came across the small box we used to put everything in. Remember that?”</p><p>“The one with the carvings on it?”</p><p>“Yeah that one! Anyway, so I was looking through it, you know, for reminiscing purposes, when I found the bucket list. It’s still there, Cas!”</p><p>“Where are you going with this?”</p><p>“I’m saying, why don’t we do the bucket list this summer? It’ll be fun!”</p><p>“Alright, I guess it’ll be fun.”</p><p>~*~</p><p>Castiel Novak doesn’t know the exact moment he fell in love with Dean Winchester. It was somewhere between their first ever meeting at 5 years old, and when he saw the way Dean’s eyes glistened with mischief as he explained his summer adventure plan. He was a goner by then, he just didn’t know it yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Summer List

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god... it's finally here... i'm finally posting my DCBB fic!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> as I'm typing this I'm actually crying with pure joy. i've been working on this story for 2 years and i wanted to post this for last years big bang, however, life got in the way and i wasn't able to. but now its out and people can enjoy it and i can't wait for the responses from all of you!
> 
> i want to take the time to say thank you to a few people that really helped me with this and gave me inspiration!
> 
> first, a HUGE thank you to my amazing artist, **kumofu**. the pictures are beautiful and so amazing and i have chills knowing that someone was able to bring my favorite scenes to life. 
> 
> next, i want to thank my friend joanna, who unknowingly gave me a lot of inspiration for this. she even helped me plan out one of the scenes
> 
>  
> 
> ......if you read this whole thing, you're an angel wow.
> 
> so, without further ado, here's The Summer List. i hope you enjoy :)

** **

** **

** **

**~*~**

**Castiel Novak walked into his publicist’s building, the strap of his over-shoulder bag tightly held between his hands, as he walked up the stairs to the familiar office of Charlie Bradbury. Charlie was sitting at her desk, playing with a miniature Hermonie Granger before looking up with a smile as she saw Castiel walking in.**

**“Cas! Have you got an amazing story for me?” Castiel just nodded, reaching into his bag and taking out a large stack of paper. Charlie took it from him, skimming through it quickly before stopping on a page and actually reading it. Her face was soft, but neutral as she took in the words on the paper. Cas stood in front of the desk, anxiously waiting for Charlie’s response. After what seemed like forever, the red head looked up with a wide smile.**

**“This is a wonderful, Cas.” She beamed. “So original, so beautiful. Truly will be a hit, I know it.”**

**Castiel smiled to himself a bit. He was quite proud of this one; he knew that he would able to personally connect to the story, more than his previous ones.**

**“Thank you. I’ve… had this idea for a while now. I thought I would write something more… personal, this time around.” Castiel confessed, giving Charlie a small smile.**

**“Well, if you’re able to connect to this, then that’s great! I’d love to see more personal work from you Cas. It shows that you’re human.” Charlie says the last part with a smile, implying that she was joking. Castiel can be a bit of a stickler sometimes, but he was a good guy. And an amazing writer! “If that’s all, then you can go and I’ll start reading this in depth.”**

**Castiel gave Charlie a short nod and a smile, before turning and leaving the office. Charlie looked down at the story, a gleam of interest peaked in her mind as her eyes read over the title:**

**_“The Summer List”_ **

**“I have a feeling I’ll like this one…” She whispered to herself, flipping to the first page . . . . .**

~*~

“This is it.” I held the envelope in my hand, feeling the letter resting inside. My hands started shaking so much I wasn’t able to open the flap. Inhaling deeply, I looked up to see green eyes, green eyes belonging to my best friend. As I focused on his face fully, I could see him smiling encouragingly, motioning towards the envelope, still unopened, in my hands.

“What are you waiting for?!” Dean asked, jumping back a bit on the bed to lean against the wall. We were both currently sitting pretzel-style on Dean’s bed, opening our college letters (acceptances, we both hope). I chuckled softly, returning my attention to the letter. “In a second, I’m going to open it for you.”

“NO!” I protested, quickly holding the letter to my chest protectively. “I’ll do it… Just give me a minute.”

“Cas, it’s been 5 minutes. You’ve been staring at the envelope like it’s going to go all ape shit on you.” Dean said, poking fun. He knew how much I loved this school, Emerson College, and much I wanted to go. And also, how devastated I would be if I didn’t get in. I heard Dean sigh, shifting a bit to get a bit closer to me. “Cas, I don’t know why you’re nervous. You’re obviously in; they’d be stupid _not_ to accept you.”

“But you never know. What if there was someone with better grades than me, or did more community service, or did more school clubs and activities and wha—”

“Castiel Novak, will you shut up and just open the damn letter?!” he said exasperatedly. I blushed a bit, not wanting to get him annoyed anymore with my stupid anxiety.

“Ok, I’m doing it right now.” I looked down at the envelope again, pulling away at the flap. When the letter was exposed, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, whispering to myself. “Whatever it is, you did your best.”

“Cas I don’t know why you’re freaking out. You’re obviously going to—”

“I GOT IN!” I cheered, hopping up off the bed and jumping around Dean’s room with complete joy. “I got into the writing program!” I could barely breathe; the excitement was rising up in my throat.

“See?! You were nervous for nothing!” Dean said, getting up to stand next to me, looking over my shoulder and reading the letter. “And looky here, you also got $25,000 in scholarship.”

“What?!” I asked, reading over the scholarships and awards and I felt my jaw drop to the floor. “That’s more than half of the tuition!”

“Yes, I know. Congrats Cas, you deserved this.” Dean said, giving me a side hug, patting my shoulder with the hand that was around me. I looked up at him with wide eyes and a toothy grin.

“Thanks. This is truly amazing! I’m going to my number one school!” I cheered, going back to the bed and sitting down before going backwards and lying completely on my back. Dean smiled fondly, going to sit next to me and following my action, lying down next to me. We both looked up at the ceiling, seeing old stickers pealing off the short ceiling. Stickers that we put there when we were 8 because we thought it would be cool to have them on the ceiling. I heard Dean sigh then felt his hand pat my chest.

“Yep. You’re going to Boston, and I’m going to Texas. Thousands of miles away from each other. Sounds like fun.” His voice lacked emotion, as if he rehearsed those lines for weeks. I turned my head to look at him, his profile in view.

“You know, we can come back here on holidays, and we would have the summer together every year. It’s not like we’re leaving each other forever.”

“Yeah but still. I’m going to miss having you just a few houses down.” He said, turning to look at me. I could see in his eyes that he was holding something back, but I didn’t want to ask. I’ve learned (from past experiences) that when Dean is ready to talk about his feelings, he will. You just have to give him time.

“Well, we still have 5 months until we have to go. It’s a long way from now.”

“I know.” We were silent after that, not wanting to ruin the peaceful moment going on now. We stayed like this for a while until there was a knock on the door. Dean jumped up to face his younger brother, Sam, who was standing in the doorway.

“Mom said dinner’s ready.” Sam said to Dean, but then turned to me. “You staying?”

“Uh, yeah. Let me just call my parents and let them know.” I said, giving Sam a small smile, which he returned, then turned to leave. I sent my parents a voice message saying I was staying and walked with Dean down the stairs to the kitchen. Mary Winchester greeted us as we sat down at the table.

“So, how did it go, Cas?” she asked, giving me a friendly smile.

“I got in and got $25,000 in scholarship.” I answered, unable to hide the growing smile on my face. John Winchester nodded his head with an impressed smirk.

“Congratulations kiddo.” He said, giving me a pat on the back.

“Thank you sir.” I replied politely.

“So that means you both are going to be so far away from each other!” Sam commented. Dean gave his brother the evil eye, as if to tell him ‘Yeah we know, you can shut up now.’

“Yeah, but it’s not like we are going to never see each other again.” I said awkwardly, not wanting Dean to get anymore upset than he already was. I know how he feels though; we’ve grown up together on the same block for 13 years. It’s going to be hard on both of us.

“Well, you both still have the summer together. You should do something special, you know, as a celebratory “last summer” together.” Mary suggested. Dean shrugged, going to attack his food rather than comment on her idea.

Dinner at the Winchesters always seemed to warm my heart. The table conversations, Dean’s intense way of eating whatever is given to him, Mary’s lovely cooking, even Sam’s comments about school always put a smile on my face. It made me feel like I belonged somewhere, because being here was like a home; I always felt welcomed.

~*~

I came home afterwards, opening the door to hear my mom talking to someone on the phone. I waited awkwardly until she either hung up or noticed me. She glanced over at me and smiled widely. I returned the smile with less enthusiasm, and handed her the opened letter, which she looked at and grinned widely.

“Um, Gwen, hold on—yes, I will—ok bye.” She hung up the phone and gave me a huge hug. “Castiel I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks mother.” I said happily. She pulled away but still held on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes.

“You’re going to love college, honey. It’s a great escape.” She tells me. I just nod and smile, telling her I was tired. She dismissed me, giving a peck on my hairline and telling me goodnight.

I got into my room and plopped onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I tried to take a deep breath, but it was as if my lungs were constricted. So instead, I took short, shallow breaths and tried to relax. However, it was hard to relax when you didn’t know why you were anxious to begin with. Was it because of the college acceptance? A bit of adrenaline still kicking in? I’m not sure. Nevertheless, I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to hit me.

~*~

The next few weeks after finding out what college I was going to (Emerson College, because I begged my father and he actually said yes) were pretty stressful. School still wanted to act as if we weren’t finishing school in 2 weeks. So as I sat in my room, typing up an essay due this Thursday, giving me only 2 days to write it, my phone began to buzz. I looked over at the screen and saw Dean’s name come up. I sighed, picking up the phone and smiling.

“Yes Mr. Winchester?” I asked sarcastically in a faux, deep adult voice.

“I am calling to speak to a Castiel Novak.” He asked, playing along.

“And why would you like to speak to me?”

“I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to ‘La Casa de Winchester’, where we will have burgers and not do boring school work.” I could practically hear the grin that boy was wearing. I gave a dramatic sigh and continued with the faux voice.

“But Mr. Winchester, school work is important.”

“Not when it’s not going to count anyway cause you got into your dream school.” _Damn it he’s playing that card…_

“I’m on my way.” I said finally, hanging up the phone before he could reply. I ran down the hallway towards the front door, passing my father and sister, Anna, as I went.

“Father, I’m going to Dean’s house for a bit. Is that ok?” I asked him hesitantly. I could feel Anna’s knowing glare piercing a hole through my head, but I was too busy looking at my father. He gave me a strange look, but shrugged.

“Sure, I guess you can go.” He said, turning his attention back to the newspaper he was reading. I gave him a smile, although I knew he couldn’t see, and ran out the door. As I walked up to his house, I saw Dean’s legs sticking out from under his Impala.

“Well look what we have here; the skillful mechanic working on his pride and joy. What a shocker.” I said, kicking his foot with mine as I let out a chuckle. He crawled out from under the car, wearing a shit-eating grin as he got to his feet.

“I can’t believe I got the nerdy Castiel out of his room.” He commented, shaking his head at his own joke.

“Well you mentioned burgers, and I could never pass up a good burger.”

“So you only came for the burgers… not to spend time with your best friend.” Dean let out a fake cry and pretended to wipe tears away. “That’s hurtful Cas. I thought you were my friend.”

“I am, but I also love burgers.” I replied matter-of-factly.

“Very well, guess I _have_ to cook for you now.”

“You know, you make the best burgers in all of Lawrence.” I said sweetly, trying to play with his ego just a bit. I could tell it worked because he straightened his back and let out a satisfied huff.

“I don’t just make the best, I make the greatest!”

“Ok let’s not get carried away.” I said laughing. We went into the backyard, passing John working on something under a used car. Just like Dean, John was a mechanic and has been one since he left the marines.

“Hey Dad, we’re going out back to grill up some burgers. You want some?” Dean asked his father, pointing towards the kitchen.

“Nah I’m good. Thanks for the offer son.” The older man said politely and returned his attention back to the car.

“Alright suit yourself. Come on Cas!” and with that the both of us went to the back where the grill stood, and a mini fridge filled with meat was off to the side. I watched as Dean leaned over to start the grill, his back stretched out and lean. I could see practically every indent of his back through the tight tee shirt he was wearing. As Dean was firing up the grill, I sat on the chair just next to it, having the heat of the flames hit my face. Everything after that seemed like a blur: the both of us eating and chatting about the day, Dean getting ketchup all over himself and taking off his shirt to clean himself off, and me watching his eyes crinkle as he laughed at his misfortune.

Yep, a normal day.

~*~

School was boring, as usual, seeing as (once again) we are doing nothing. The teachers have all given up practically, telling us things like “You are basically prepared for the future” or “There’s not much else I can teach you”. All in all, school became less of a place of learning, and more of a day care for overgrown children. Nevertheless, I still had to walk to my next period class—Calculus—backpack in tow, and embark on a mathematical journey. That is, if I wasn’t currently underneath my best friend, who thinks that tackling someone in a crowded hallway is socially acceptable in modern times.

“Dean, may I ask why you had the urge to jump on me while I’m walking to class?” I asked, my chest heaving as I tried to get oxygen into my lungs while having a guy sit on my chest.

“I know what we’re going to do this summer!” He cheered, a smile splitting his face into two. His perfectly white teeth seemed to shimmer at this angle, and I was getting the idea that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“That’s wonderful, Phineas. Now will you get off of me?” I suggested, patting his chest as an indication that I want him off of me now.

“Oh, right sorry.” He stumbled onto his feet, offering me a hand to help me up. I graciously took it and got to my feet. “As I was saying, I know how to make this summer memorable!”

“This isn’t one of your schemes where we sneak into every club in Lawrence and try not to get caught, is it?”

“No, better than that, much better than that!” Dean’s eyes looked to either side of him, as if looking for any eavesdroppers who could take Dean’s glorious plan and claim it for their own. After he secured the hallway, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the stairs.

“Oh God, you’re gonna kill me, aren’t you?” I joked, allowing myself to be pulled along. Dean gave me a glance, his eyebrow arched up in a mysterious way.

“No I’m not going to kill you; you’re too precious.” It would be a lie if I said my face didn’t feel 10 times warmer after hearing that. We turned around the corner of the stairway so that we were just underneath the stairs, the indents of steps causing me to have to duck just a bit in this awkward position. “Remember when we were 10 and we wanted to do a bunch of things before we died?” I thought about this for a moment, and then smiled.

“Oh yeah, and your mom was so scared! She thought we were going to suddenly commit suicide.”

“Right, so, get this. I was cleaning out some of my drawers yesterday when I came across the small box we used to put everything in. Remember that?”

“The one with the carvings on it?”

“Yeah that one! Anyway, so I was looking through it, you know, for reminiscing purposes, when I found the bucket list. It’s still there, Cas!” He exclaimed, reaching to grab both my shoulders and shake them a bit. I jumped slightly at the sudden contact, but soon easing up to smile at my best friend.

“Where are you going with this?” I asked him, tilting my head to the side.

“I’m saying, why don’t we do the bucket list this summer? It’ll be fun!” There was that smile again; the smile that I can never say no to, the smile that if he was about to murder innocent people, he’d throw that crooked grin at me and I would allow him to shoot the whole place up. It’s the smile I can’t resist.

“Alright, I guess it’ll be fun.” I agree. Dean can’t contain his excitement and throws his arms around me in a bear hug. I stay shell-shocked for a minute, before patting his back slowly.

“This is going to be awesome!” He concludes. “Come on, the bell’s gonna ring any minute.” And with that, he takes my hand again and pulls me from behind the stairs. My mouth starts to twitch in an upwards motion as we beeline through the halls to our next class.

~*~

After school that day, we went back to Dean’s house to pick out the first activity for the summer. Running up the steps two at a time, we finally reached his room and plopped onto his bed. I reached over to grab the box, opening it to take out the piece of paper, and skimming my eyes through the childish handwriting that was etched onto the white marble-notebook paper.

“I can’t believe we’re actually going to finally be doing this though. I’ve wanted to do some of these things since forever!” I commented, putting the box on his desk, the old carvings on the box fading slightly, yet still evident as to what was carved.

“Remember when we wanted to find bury treasure?” Dean asked, looking at the box with admiration. I smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, we wanted to be pirates. You practically _begged_ your mom to give us gold coins because that’s what pirates liked.” I laughed out loud, shaking my head and reminiscing.

“God, it feels like forever ago.” His voice was soft, as if he was afraid that if he spoke any louder, the memory would crack and be gone forever. I stepped forward towards the resting box, running my fingers over the carvings of our initials: “CN + DW”

“Yeah, it does…” I whispered. After a moment, Dean smiled and gave me a sideways glance.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Dean asked me politely, handing the box over to me. I smiled and nodded, taking out the piece of paper that had our entire bucket list items on it. I opened it to read childish handwriting that said:

**Kiss in the rain**

“Um no.” Dean said quickly, grabbing the paper out of my hand. “Did you write that?”

“I guess so… I don’t remember.” I said honestly, squinting my eyes at the paper in confusion.

“Of course you did, you girl.” He said jokingly.

“Ok, we’ll just do the next one on the list.” I looked at the second item, written in chicken scratch—this one clearly in Dean’s handwriting:

**Write a fan letter to a movie star**

“Now that is something fun to do!” Dean said happily. “And I know just who to write to.”

“If you write to the guy that plays Dr. Sexy on Dr. Sexy M.D, I am never speaking to you again.” I said, my tone was serious but my intention light.

“He’s an amazing actor!” Dean protested.

“Yeah, sure he is.” I rolled my eyes, taking the piece of paper and putting it on the desk facing up. “So we start tomorrow?”

“Yep. My house, bring paper and pen.” Dean flashed a smile towards me, which I returned back.

“Got it.” I said simply. And with that, I went home, hands dug into my pockets and thinking about the adventure we were about to embark on.

~*~

As I walked through the door, I saw my father sitting in the same spot as when I left. Only now, his newspaper was folded on his lap and he was flipping mindlessly through the channels on the television. He didn’t even notice I walked in, so I just went to sit on the other couch, pulling my knees up to my chest and watching as he changed the channels every 5 seconds. It wasn’t until we reached a channel he liked that he turned to speak to me.

“I don’t see why you find it amusing to hang out at a garage.” He said, his head tilted slightly in confusion.

“Dean works there and I like to meet up with him.” I said honestly, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

“Ah… Dean. That boy you’ve been friends with since we moved here.” My father scratched his chin in thought. “I still wonder why you like him so much.”

“Because he’s my friend.” I said bluntly. My father just shrugged and sighed.

“You have very weird friends.” I didn’t answer him. Instead I went to my room and covered myself with the blanket before drifting off to sleep.

When I woke up, the clock by my bed read 2:54 am and there was a knocking on my window. Confused, I got up and walked to my window, only to open it and find Dean standing there with a smug grin on his face.

“Dean, it is 3 in the morning on a school night. Why are you here?”

“Dad was being an ass so I decided to crash here.” He then proceeded to climb over my window ledge and plop onto my floor.

“If my father finds you here, I’ll be dead!” I exclaimed quietly, not wanting anyone in my house to hear me.

“Aw, Manny doesn’t like me?” Dean asked sarcastically, knowing the answer already.

“No he doesn’t. That’s why you should leave. Now.”

“What if we start the bucket list thing tonight?” he asked randomly, causing a confused (and irritated) look from me.

“Dean, I repeat, it’s 3 in the morning and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be killed by my father.” I tried to keep my stern composure, but Dean’s face made it really hard to say no. His freckles seemed to glow under the moonlight, and his eyes were dark with adventure. Then, he pulled the big guns; he gave me he puppy eyes. He knows I can’t resist those.

“Please?” he asked, his voice tiny and timid under the faux impression. I know full well this is only so he can get what he wants, but I just can’t say no…

“FINE!” I gave in, throwing my hands up in the air. “Let’s start this stupid letter now at 3 in the morning!”

“Yay! Thanks Cassie!” he cheered softly, giving me a tight squeeze, which caused my face to heat up.

“Don’t call me Cassie.” I warned, pulling away from him.

“Fine.” He turned to my desk and get out paper and pens and sat down on the office chair. He looked over at me and smiled, waving his hand in a beckoning motion for me to follow him.

“Where do you want me to sit?” I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Right here.” Dean said, patting his leg. I shook my head in disbelief.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” I said, going over to sit on Dean’s leg. I still leaned a bit on my own legs so I wouldn’t put so much weight on Dean. He just smiled and nodded.

“Yes I do. Now come on! I wanna know who you’re going to write to!” Dean started writing to Steve Bacac (the man who played Dr. Sexy, obviously) and I just stared at my paper, not knowing who I should right to.

“Does it have to be a movie star?” I asked Dean, turning to face him. I just saw him shrug and shake his head.

“If you can’t think of anyone, just write to someone famous. Doesn’t have to be a movie star.” I thought about that for a second and I finally decided who I was going to write to.

“I’m writing to Chuck Shurley.” I said finally, writing his name down in the header. Dean turned to look at me with strange eyes.

“Who the hell is Chuck Shurley?” he asked.

“He’s a writer, and an amazing one at that.” I answered. Dean just shrugged after that and continued writing his own letter. When we both were done, we read each other our letters to make sure they sounded good.

“Dean, I think you’re speaking to admirably to someone who plays a sexy doctor for a living.” I pointed out jokingly. Dean seemed hurt by this, turning away from me with a huff.

“Well excuse me for admiring this man’s acting skills.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that; the guy plays a doctor on a stupid medical soap opera. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just that… you’re gay for Dr. Sexy.” After saying that, I busted out in a fit of giggles, my eyes tearing up from laughing so hard. Dean didn’t seem amused at first, but soon started to chuckle when he realized that it was sorta funny.

“So what if I’m a bit gay for him! We all are a little gay for someone, right?!” he asked in defense.

“Yeah I guess so…” I replied, biting my lip softly.

“Ok, so I’ll mail these out on my way home now.” Dean said, tapping my shoulder as an indication to get up. I sat up off his leg and allowed him to move towards the window, holding out letters in his hand. “Tomorrow we start the next thing on our list.”

“Ok.” I agreed. As I looked at Dean’s face, his eyes seemed to be down casted and dull, like the life was sucked out of him.

“See you in a few hours, I guess.” He said softly, kicking his leg out of the window. I realized why he seemed so upset to go—his father—and grabbed onto his arm.

“You can stay here until morning, if you want.” I could see his eyes fill with…something. But it was gone in an instant when he asked if my father would mind. “He can suck my dick if he thinks I’m going to let you walk home at 4 in the morning by yourself.”

“Alright then.” And with that, Dean climbed back into my room and plopped onto my bed. I followed behind, scooting in towards him under the covers. “Goodnight Cas.” Dean whispered into the dark room. I closed my eyes and sighed, feeling Dean’s legs brush against mine.

“Goodnight Dean.” And I went to sleep.

~*~

“So, what do we have here?” I heard the voice coming from behind me and I knew exactly who it was. I sighed, rolling my eyes as I turned on my heels to face Gabriel. The hallway of seniors was long and cluttered with people half asleep, and yet, Gabriel seemed to be on his sugar high (as usual) with his wide eyes and dorky smile.

“Gabriel, what do you want?” I asked, not wanting to deal with him this early in the morning.

“I just wanted to tell you that Dean was looking for you in homeroom. Something about a bucket list.” I squinted my eyes at the smaller teen. Gabriel seemed to notice my uneasiness, his grin growing intensely. “What is it that you and Mr. Sparkling Green Eyes are doing that’s making you look like a sour puss?”

“None of your business Gabriel.”

“Oh come on Cassie! I want to help! I want to be part of your Summer Adventure too. I can help, I swear!” he begged, folding his hands and shaking them pleadingly.

“Gabe, no. That’s the end of it.” I turned to walk away, but that didn’t do much cause I could hear his footsteps behind me.

“What if I could get you and Dean something even better to do?!” he bribed, his eyebrow raised in question.

“No, leave me alone now.” And with that I turned into History class and left Gabriel alone.

After History, I met up with Dean to go to his house for lunch. He was waiting by the exit, like always, his back against the doorframe and his face hovering over his phone as he mindlessly scrolled through whatever it was he was looking at. When I caught up with him, he looked up and smiled, opening the door for him and me and walked over to his car. The Impala was a beautiful car, however Dean liked to call it Baby and it made me sick to think that a guy can be so in love with his car.

“So, Gabe told me you were looking for me?” I asked Dean once we were settled in the car.

“Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to do the next thing now.” He answered, his eyes fixed on the street ahead of him. I shrugged, knowing full well he couldn’t see it.

“Sure, sounds good.” I gave him a small smile, and he turned to face me for a second to smile back at me. I felt my heart do a weird flip feeling in my chest, but I ignored it.

We got to Dean’s house and made our way to his room. Dean reached for the box and sat next to me on his bed, placing the box on his lap.

“Ok, let’s see what’s next on the list.” He stated, reaching into the box and pulling out the piece of paper. He opened it up and read with it said:

**Appear in a police line up**

“How does one just appear in a police line up?” I asked, giving Dean a tilted head look as he just shrugged.

“I don’t know… do you just volunteer for a spot?”

“Why don’t we go down to the police station and find out?”

“I’m really curious as to who wrote this one.” Dean said, a small smile on his face. I looked at the slip of paper and bit my lip in thought.

“You did. I can tell by the way you wrote the ‘A’.” I noted, turning to see a shocked Dean staring back at me. “What?”

“How could you tell that it was me from something written 8 years ago?” he asked.

“I just know for sure that it wasn’t my handwriting so…” I said simply, not want to complete my thought as to really why I knew that.

“Impressive my friend.” He said, patting my back. “So, wanna head over to the police station?”

“Can we eat first? I’m starving!” I said, rubbing my stomach for good measure. Dean chuckled loudly, throwing his head back, allowing me to look at his perfect neck.

“Sure buddy, let’s make some sandwiches.” He goes, walking out of his room. I stayed for an extra second, wondering why I was admiring my best friend’s butt, then followed him out of the room.

~*~

We headed over to the police station after lunch and asked the chief how we could appear in a police line. The man, a sturdy looking man named Victor, just tilted his head and asked us why we wanted to be part of a police line up. Dean explained to Victor that it’s on our bucket list and that was the thing we picked out for today. Victor didn’t seem to mind our request, seeing as we weren’t doing something bad and didn’t want to do something illegal. He told us that the next police line up for today was at 5 pm.

“Thank you sir.” I said politely once we received the information.

“No problem boys,” Victor said. “But let me know how your bucket list goes. And if you need anymore of my help, just let me know.”

“Thank you.” Dean said. And we both left to return to school. “That was easier than I thought it would be.” He confessed once we were out of the police station.

“Tell me about it. I was expecting him to ask a million questions as to why two 18 year old weirdoes wanted to be part of a line up.” We ended up at school in 10 minutes, causing us to be late to our next period class. Dean held his breath as he parked the car.

“Damnit, I didn’t realize we were going to be late.” He said, then turned to me with apologetic eyes. “Sorry Cas, I’ll talk to your teacher and say it was my fault.”

“No, don’t worry. Ms. Kealy doesn’t care about me being late, since I’m so good in her class.” I said, trying to make him feel a bit better about us being late. “Are you gonna get in trouble though?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy, I can handle a stupid teacher.” He said confidently, lifting his chin to show how brave he was. I shook my head in amusement and chuckled lightly.

“Alright then.” I said, getting out of the car and walking to the door. Dean followed behind, his hands shoved into his pockets. When I opened the door, we were faced with a grinning Gabriel.

“Hello boys, how was your little adventure?” he asked, the smug grin not leaving his face at all.

“I still don’t get why you mentioned that to him.” I sighed, saying to Dean, who just raised his hands in defense.

“I’m sorry Cas, he got it out of me.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Deano. You were just itching to tell someone about the love fest that you and Cas were embarking on.” I felt my face heat up with anger (or embarrassment).

“Ignore him, Cas.” Dean said, grabbing my shoulder and ushering me around Gabe. “He’s not worth it.” His lips whispered that last part into my ear, causing me to shiver just a bit. Gabe seemed to notice, because he obviously had to point that out.

“A bit cold Cassie?”

“Leave him alone.” Dean said defensively, his hand pushing me back slightly so he could be in between Gabe and me.

“Fine, get back to your little secret relationship. I’ll leave you alone… for today.” He said, giggling before turning to leave us standing in the hallway.

“Let’s get to class, Dean.” I said softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from where we were. He obliged, hanging his head a bit as we walked.

~*~

After school that day, Dean and I went to my house to hang out for a bit before leaving for the police station. As we walked through the door, I could already feel the unwanted vibe coming from my father. He sat at the kitchen table, a mug in his hand (most likely tea), and scanned through the newspaper. I sucked my lips into my mouth, making a firm line, as we crossed the kitchen towards the hallway. We would have been able to go in peace, if it wasn’t for my father looking up and seeing us.

“Castiel, why do you feel the need to sneak past your own father in your own house?” he asked, his glasses inching off the bridge of his nose as he stared at us.

“W-we weren’t sneaking, father. I just didn’t want to b-bother you. That’s all.” I stuttered, digging my hands in my pockets in what felt like shame.

“Yes, Mr. Novak,” Dean said, “You look very busy and we wouldn’t want to disrupt you.”

“Ah, Dean Winchester. Truly, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. How’ve you been?” _Ok who was this man and what has he done with my father?_

“I-I’m fine sir, thank you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from Castiel much longer. Enjoy.” And with that, my father got up and left the kitchen, leaving both Dean and I utterly and completely shocked.

“Uh, I thought you said your dad hated me?” Dean asked after a moment of silence.

“I thought so too.”

We went upstairs after that Twilight Zone moment, going to sit on my bed with a sigh. Dean didn’t speak, just sat there in silence as I leaned back on my headboard. The silence started to feel awkward and I wasn’t enjoying it one bit.

“So, this police line up thing, you’re not nervous?” I asked Dean, my head tilting a bit in curiosity. He just shrugged, turning to look at me.

“I don’t know, I was just thinking… in that line up, there’s going to be one person that is the criminal. What if he does something that’s bad? To us?” He voiced his fear, and this is the first time I’ve heard him have any apprehension about this bucket list idea.

“Nothing’s going to happen, Dean. I promise.” I said sincerely, leaning forward.

“You can’t promise that.” His voice sounded so small, and it scared me a bit. He wasn’t supposed to be the scared one; he was supposed to be the brave and fearless Dean Winchester.

“It wouldn’t matter anyway, cause if anything were to happen, I’d protect you.” I whispered, my gaze firm yet kind. “There’s nothing to be afraid of anyway, the people aren’t armed, and they are watched. You’ll be fine.”

“Ok, I believe you.” And with that, the time read 4:30 and we decided that getting to the place early was a good idea. We walked past the kitchen again, only this time, the chair was vacant. We left the house, hopped into Dean’s car, and made our way to the precinct. When we got there, we saw Victor outside smoking a cigarette and looking around. He finally noticed us and gave a big smile.

“Hello boys. Come on in, we’re just about ready to start the line up.” He led us into a small room where there were 4 other guys, all hand cuffed and sitting nonchalantly. Dean’s face paled and I could hear his breath hitch in his throat. I gave a look once more around the room, and turned to Victor with a raised eyebrow.

“We don’t need to put handcuffs on, right? Seeing as we came to you wanting to do this.” I asked, hoping the answer would be to our favor, but sadly, Victor gave a small frown.

“I’m sorry boys, it’s regulation that all those in the line up must be handcuffed. But don’t worry; this isn’t going to be put on any police record. Your names are completely anonymous, unless you’re pointed out as the criminal, which is unlikely.” Victor went to another police officer and got two handcuffs from him, turning to meet our wide eyes. “I won’t make them too tight, I promise.”

I looked over at Dean to see his eyes were brimmed with tears, but he was holding them in like the trooper he was. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that nothing bad is going to happen, and that Dean and I are completely safe.

Except for the fact that we are about to be put in a line with someone who has committed a crime.

“Dean, are you ok?” I asked him once we were handcuffed. My wrists felt weird in this tense position, but it could have been worse—it could have been much tighter than Victor made them. Dean looked over at me with wide eyes and shook his head. “It’s going to be ok, alright? I’m going to be right there next to you the entire time.”

Before I could talk myself out of it, I found myself reaching slightly over to cover Dean’s hand. I felt this fingers trembling in fear, but they soon relaxed in my hand and I felt his fingers knit into mine. There was a surge of emotion that ran through my body, causing my breathing to become a bit more rapid and my throat to go dry. I looked into Dean’s eyes and I saw the twinkle I always see when we’re about to do something crazy and stupid; the kind of twinkle I’ve always dreamed of having.

“Ok boys, line up!” A police officer announced. Dean and I followed the other 4 men and stood behind them. The same police officer went down the row and placed a cardboard sign around our necks, each reading a different number. Mine was 5, Dean’s was 6. “Ok, remember your number, and when we call you, you must walk forward and show your profile. We will tell you to step back when the witness is finished with her examining. Any questions?” The room was silent. “Good. Let’s move.”

“Cas, let’s switch.” Dean whispers to me. I turn to see him and give him a questioning look.

“Why?”

“Cause I don’t want you next to that big guy.” Dean jerks his head a bit to indicate what guy he was talking about. The man was huge, he had to be about 6’7 and his hands were the size of watermelons (the big ones, not the tiny ones you get for like half price). I gulped, finally noticing the monstrous man I was forced to stand next to. But I held in my apprehension because Dean was in no better shape to be standing next to the Hulk.

“Dean, it’s fine. I’ll be ok.” I reassure him, giving him a small smile. “And besides, how likely would it be that he was the criminal?!”

~*~

Hulk was the criminal.

The lady, who apparently was nearly raped by Hulk and beaten to a pulp, started crying when she saw him, screaming, “That’s him! That’s the one!”

Let’s just say, I won’t be sleeping peacefully anytime soon.

No, I wouldn’t say that. The guy’s in jail now so everything is safe… I hope.

“Well that was… exciting.” Dean concluded as we drove back to my house that night.

“Exciting doesn’t even cut it!” I exclaimed, my head rested fully on the headrest behind me.

“Ok, it was totally and completely terrifying!” Dean starts to chuckle a bit, causing me to smile and laugh. “But it was the best thing we’ve ever done!”

“It was a lot of fun, wasn’t it?”

“Fun!? It was exhilarating! I’ve never had that much of a rush in my life!” Dean whooped a cheer with the windows rolled down, the spring breeze whipping through the car and hitting my face.

“I’m curious as to what’s next on the list.” I state. Dean smiles and nods, looking over at me for a split second.

“Same, but I think it’s something about drawing. That’s what I remember from looking at it earlier.”

“That should be fun, seeing as I’m horrible at drawing.” I comment, smiling and shaking my head.

“Hey hey! You’re not horrible. You just… need improvement.”

“Thanks, that’s a nicer way of putting that I suck.” I said, giving him a friendly glare.

“You’re a writer, Cas. It’s practically impossible to be both an artist and a writer.”

“Tell that to Lewis Carroll.” I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest in a playful attempt to seem upset.

“Well, Lewis Carroll wasn’t even half as good as you are. I mean, come on. The man wrote about little girls and then drew from children models. If that doesn’t read creep, I don’t know what does.” Dean said, his voice sweet, but with finality to it, as if what he’s saying is true and right. “You’re amazing. The things you do with words and detail…”

My mouth hung open and I didn’t even attempt to shut it. No one has ever complimented my writing with such certainty, or even really cared about my work. And here Dean was, praising my work and my talent, and I couldn’t help the blush that crept up on my face. It wasn’t until I realized something that made me blush even more.

“Wait, I’ve never given you any of my stories to read.” I stated, looking at him with bewilderment.

“Yeah, speaking of which, I’m offended! You have this wonderful talent and you don’t share it with your best friend. I’m hurt, Cas.” He turned to me and gave a crocked smile, showing that he was just joking. “I had to go through your book myself to find those amazing stories.”

“When did you read my stories?” Now I was completely intrigued. I wanted to know when, where, how, and even why Dean read my stories.

“About a month ago. You left it in my car after coming home from school. I was going to give it to you, but I got curious and read a few pages. After that I was hooked. I went home and copied the pages so I could read them whenever I wanted. The next day, I slipped the book in your bag so you wouldn’t suspect that I had it.” Dean fixed his eyes on the road for a moment, before turning to me at a red light, his eyes filled with guilt. “I shouldn’t have done that, dude. But… I was curious, and I knew you loved to write and I’ve never read anything you’ve written and that made me really upset cause we’re supposed to be best friends and share things and _wow_ I sound like a chick right now, but it’s true.”

I let him babble for a minute before holding up a hand to stop him from going any further. He clamped his lips shut, pressing on the gas as the light changed from red to green. I smiled, even though he couldn’t see it at the moment, and laughed a bit to myself.

“Dean, no one has ever cared enough to want to read my stories. The fact that you did that shows you cares, and I’m grateful for that. So thank you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me?! Not even your parents?” He asked incredulously. I shook my head, a frown forming on my lips.

“No, my mom seems to care slightly, but she’s too wrapped up in her own life to notice mine.” I inhaled deeply, thinking about how my mother would rather I became a doctor or a lawyer, someone successful. “My father just doesn’t care. There’s no changing him.”

“What about Anna?”

“She doesn’t know I write.” I love my sister, however I’ve never had the courage to tell her my true passion. She is studying to be an orthodontist, which my parents continuously praise her for, so me coming out and saying I want to be a writer is embarrassing.

“You know,” Dean says softly, pulling in front of my house and putting the car in park. He turns to face me, giving me a small smile. “You have to do things you want to do, so others can see you’ve got a mind of your own.” I just smiled at his words. “Also, your story about the greasers and band geeks, had me tearing up at the end, I’m not gonna lie.” His smile stretched across his face and made my insides bubble with happiness.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Your welcome, Cas.” I got out of the car, turning to give Dean one last smile and wave as I headed for the front door. The last thing I saw was Dean’s pearly white smile and his bright green eyes before I turned my back to him to walk into my house.

~*~

“Hey Cas, mind if we talked for a sec?” Anna stood at my door with her arms crossed over her chest, leaning nonchalantly on the doorframe. I looked up from my novel—Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman, which is truly amazing—and gave her a smile and a gesture to come in. She sat down next to me on the bed and crossed her legs Indian style, raising an eyebrow at me as if she was thinking of something to say. “So, this thing you’re doing with Dean… what is it exactly?”

“Well, when we were younger, we made this bucket list of things we wanted to do before we died. So instead of doing it as a legit bucket list, we are making it into a summer adventure…thing.” I tried to explain, but it was difficult. It was like trying to explain the concept of a fork to a dog; it was nearly impossible to describe the meaning of what we were doing to someone who wasn’t experiencing it.

“I see, and Dean has the list at his house?”

“Yeah it’s in an old treasure box we used to have that has a bunch of memorabilia from when we were little.”

“That’s nice.” And that was it. We stayed silent for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company. We were quiet for a few more minutes, but then I felt Anna’s hand on my shoulder. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“No, why?”

“It’s just… you seem happier.” I was taken aback by this answer. I was expecting something like ‘You don’t seem like yourself’. But I’m guessing me not being myself is me being happier.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No! Just, I haven’t seen you smile this wide in a long time, especially because of someone…” Where was she going with this…? “Is there anything I need to know… concerning Dean?”

“What?! No, Anna! We’re just best friends. Always have been!” I said, but I couldn’t stop the redness from rising to my cheeks. I shot up off the bed, walking to the other side of the room. I could feel my sister’s eyes on me as if I just answered her question by leaving the bed.

“You know I wouldn’t judge you at all if you did.” She says matter-of-factly. I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, then opened my eyes and turned to face her.

“I know, but there’s nothing between me and Dean, I can promise you that.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“I don’t like Dean, not in that way anyway.” As I said that, I could swear that my heart clenched in my chest. I looked at my sister with stone cold eyes. “Don’t go around thinking something that isn’t true. It’s not polite.”

“Alright Castiel. No need to get snippy, I just was wondering.” She held her hands up in defense and made her way out of my room. “By the way, dinner is almost ready.” I just nodded as she left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

~*~

The next day after school, Dean and I run up his stairs to his room where we opened the treasure box to take out the piece of paper that was defining our summer. Dean held the paper in his hand and read the third activity out loud.

**Paint a portrait of your partner**

“Time to get your artistic skills all out and ready!” Dean exclaimed, going to get paper and pens. When he came back, I gave him a look and shook my head. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it just says to paint a picture, so why don’t we use actual paint?”

“Cause I don’t have any.”

“Then let’s get some.” I head towards his door, realizing that he isn’t following me, and turn to face him. He had this look on his face, like he was shocked at my suggestion. “What?”

“Wh—nothing. Let’s go, we’ll go to the dollar store and get some cheap paint.” And with that, we headed out of his house, passing by a lounging Sam on the way out.

“Where are you guys going?” Sam asked, looking over the couch and at our retreating bodies.

“To the store. We’ll be back in a bit.” Dean says simply as we leave. We hop into his car and drive over to the dollar store, picking up some cheap paint and checking it out. After getting a suitable amount of paint, we headed back to Dean’s house and ran up to his room again.

“This is better.” I conclude, pouring the bag of paint out onto the floor. “Should we get newspaper or something?”

“Sure, I’ll grab it.” He said, going out for a minute as I set up in his room. I pushed most of the furniture out of the way and took out the paintbrushes that we also bought, setting them down next to each other on the floor. Dean soon comes back with a stack of newspaper and lays them out on the floor, covering the entire wooden floor with newspaper. Once he was done, he gives me a small smile, getting the paper from before and scattering it on the floor. “It’s time to get to painting.”

“Ok, you want to paint first?” I ask him, opening the paint and squirting it on the newspaper.

“Why don’t you paint me first.” Dean suggested, going to sit on the bed. I shrugged and grabbed a brush and dipped it into the black paint. When I looked up, I had to hold back a gasp. Dean was laying on his side, one hand propping him up, and he was shirtless.

“Uh—Dean?” I ask, wondering why the hell he was like that. He just gave me a small smile and raised his chin a bit higher.

“Paint me like one of your French girls, Cas.” He said in a mock French accent (a terrible one at that). I felt my pants tighten as I stared wide-eyed for a moment, but then nodded. I started painting Dean, although I know I wasn’t doing him justice seeing I was a terrible artist. After about 5 minutes I growled in annoyance and threw the brush on the ground.

“I’m actually terrible.” I stated, looking down at the horrible painting of Dean. His head looked like a watermelon, his legs were uneven, his body looked like a sausage; basically I should never hold a paintbrush ever again.

“Hey I bet it’s not that bad.” Dean said, coming over to look at my “masterpiece”. As he stared at it for a minute, I buried my face in my hands in utter embarrassment. “Well, like I said, it’s nearly impossible for an amazing writer to be an amazing artist.”

“It’s hideous.” I groaned, not wanting to look at Dean and see his mocking smile. But after a few more seconds of groaning, I look up to see Dean wasn’t laughing. In fact, he barely was snickering; the smile he wore was one of encouragement.

“It’s not that bad. If it makes you feel better, though, you can be the model now.” He holds his hand out for me grab, which I do, and he pulls me up. I give him a small smile and go over to sit on the bed as he sits on the floor with the paint. Dean looks up at me and tilts his head, biting his lip in thought.

“What is it?” I ask, suddenly cautious of my body just sitting there as he looked at me.

“Nothing, just… are you just going to sit there like that?” he asks.

“Well, what do you want me to do?” I ask, my hands uncomfortably resting on my lap as his eyes practically drilled into mine. I see him get up and walk towards me, still shirtless, and he goes to grab my wrist.

“Put your hands like this,” he says, moving my hands to behind my head. “And lean against the wall.” I scoot back so that I was leaning against his wall. “Perfect.”

“Anything else, Michelangelo?” I tease, staying in the position he asked. Dean moves his hand to under his chin, tapping it with his index finger in thought. Then, he looked down at my button up shirt with a devilish grin. I tilt my head in confusion, but in the next second, Dean is reaching towards my shirt and ripping it open. “Dean!!” I exclaimed in shock, watching as my buttons forcefully break off my shirt. “This was my nice shirt.”

“Better. Now let’s get to painting.” He turns around and goes to sit back in his spot. I tried to control my rapid-beating heart from popping out of my chest like some Looney Toons character, but it was too fast; I was almost certain Dean could hear it from where he was sitting. After about 10 minutes of uncomfortable posing, Dean looks up at me with a huge grin.

“You done?” I ask him, bringing my arms down from behind my head.

“Yep, wanna see it?” He picks up the painting and shows me. I take a good look at it, seeing how he perfectly painted my body and face; he even added the blue in my eyes.

“Wow, Dean, that’s actually really good.” I admit, not able to take my eyes off of the painting.

“Thanks, it’s just basic sketching, only with paint.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well, I think it’s awesome.” I said finally, giving him a wide grin.

“You know what would be even more awesome, though?” Dean asked, his eyebrow cocked up mischievously. His eyes traveled down to the paint and back up to me, his grin still there on his face. I understood what he meant, but I humored him anyway.

“What could be more awesome?” I ask him, a sly grin on my face as well.

“This!” Dean grabbed a blue bottle of paint just as I was reaching for the green and squirted it all over me. I let out a gasp, eyes wide and mouth hung open. Dean gives me a smirk as my eyes narrowed playfully. I open the green paint just as he makes an exit.

“Not so fast Winchester!” I call after him, running down the stairs after him with my green paint in hand. Dean makes a break for the backyard, laughing like a little kid the whole way.

“Come and get me Novak!” He calls out, running around his backyard like a crazy person. I start to squirt the green paint towards him, hitting him on the back as he makes a dramatic fall. “I’ve been shot!”

I move to stand above him as he laid on the ground in pretend pain. “Any last words, Dean Winchester?”

“Yes, tell my family I love them.” He says, hold his hand up in surrender. I pointed and squirted the paint square in the chest. He lets out a fake cry and closed his eyes, tongue sticking out of his mouth, as if that makes a person dead. I go into a fit of giggles and plop down next to him. We just sit there and enjoy the sun blazing down onto our paint covered chests; the only thing we can hear is each other’s breathing.

I turn to look at him for a second before saying, “You’re actually a really good painter.”

“And you’re an amazing writer.” He says, looking back at me.

“I didn’t mention my writing.” I state, feeling my cheeks heat up when he says stuff like that, when he praises my talent. It’s a nice feeling but I’d rather not feel like that with him so close.

“Well I did. You shouldn’t feel all hell bent just cause you’re not good at something. You’re good at plenty of other things. So what if you’re not the best artist there is, you’re super smart, an amazing writer, and an even better best friend.” I couldn’t take my eyes away; I just couldn’t look away. His eyes shone under the afternoon sun, splatters of green paint freckling his face. It was at this moment I noticed: he was beautiful. “Who knows? Maybe when you’re a hotshot writer, and you need someone to draw your cover art, you can call me. I’d love to help you out.”

“I’d like that.” I said honestly, giving him a small smile. And there we stayed; our backs cool from the grass underneath us, our chests burning from the setting sun. The moon was starting to rise and come into view, and we stayed. We stayed there until Sam came out to call us in for dinner, but even then we were reluctant to move. I certainly didn’t want to move, because somewhere between the sun setting and the fireflies coming out, Dean brushed his hand against mine and held onto my wrist softly.

And I felt as if I was in a dream.

~*~

The weekend came by quickly, and to say I was anxious about that would be an understatement. Dean and I haven’t seen much of each other since the 3rd bucket list item; he was busy with his own personal things and I was busy setting up my house for company. My parents told me when I came home that night that Balthazar was coming to visit from England. The last time I saw Balthazar wasn’t a nice time, and I choose to forget about it at any cost. But my parents pulled the ‘he was your best friend once, don’t act like you hate him’ and practically forced me into a reunion dinner at our house.

When the doorbell rang, I felt my stomach shoot up to my throat. I swallowed it down and went to open the door, seeing an older looking Balthazar Jones standing at the doorway.

“Well what do we have here? Castiel Novak, it’s great to see you again.”

“Hello Balthazar.” I greet monotonously. Balthazar seemed hurt by that, placing a hand over his chest and letting out a gasp.

“Cassie, I’m hurt. There’s no need to be hostile towards your best friend.”

“You’re not my best friend.” I state firmly. “Not anymore anyway.”

“Oh, right, that Dean Winchester boy took my title. Well, I would love to talk to him and discuss some… things.”

“He didn’t take it, you lost it after what you did.” I didn’t want to talk to him right now. Where were my parents when I needed them?

“Ouch Cassie.”

“Don’t call me that.” I could feel my anger rising in my chest. I needed to leave before I did something stupid and regretful.

“Castiel! Where are your manners?” My mother comes walking in at the wrong time. Of course. “Balthazar, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Welcome hon.”

“Thank you very much Mrs. Novak. And it’s ok, Castiel is just joking, weren’t you Cassie.” I had to bit my lip to hold back any other unwanted remark.

“Yes, Balthazar and I were just joking.”

“Oh, well I’ll let you boys to catch up. I’ve got finger foods in the kitchen if you boys get hungry.” And then she left us alone, sadly. I turned to Balthazar, who gave me a devilish grin, and that didn’t give me nice thoughts.

“Come on Cassie, don’t you remember all the fun we had?” He asked. I felt his hands touch my arms softly, as if to calm me down. Only that made me angrier.

“Don’t touch me.” I growled. He didn’t back off though, only coming in closer. I could smell his cologne and it made me want to gag; he smelt just like he did 3 years ago, the last night I saw him.

“Castiel, you know you used to like this. You used to like when I was this close.” He was taller than me, taller than the last time we saw each other. His blue eyes gazed down at me as I moved to try and get away, but he was stronger. “Don’t upset me Cassie.”

“Get away from me you monster.” I spat at him through clenched teeth. He let out a loud laugh, sounded more evil by the minute.

“But Castiel, I’m no where near done with you.”

“Well, I’m done with you.” And with every ounce of energy I had I pushed him away and ran out the door, not knowing exactly where I wanted to go. But then I decided the best option was going to Dean’s. I ran to his house and knocked on his door a bunch of times before Mrs. Winchester opened the door.

“Castiel, sweetie, what’s wrong?” she asked concerned.

“Is Dean here?” I ask immediately. I could tell she was taken aback with my sudden outburst but she nodded nevertheless.

“Yes, he’s in his room.” I didn’t even wait for an invitation inside. I just pushed past her. I felt bad about being rude to Mrs. Winchester, but I needed to get as far away as I could from Balthazar. I ran up the stairs two at a time and knocked on his door frantically. He opened it a moment later with confusion etched on his face.

“Cas, what’s wr—” he couldn’t even finish his sentence because I wrapped my arms around his middle and clenched onto him tightly. I felt the tears sting my eyes but I tried so hard not to let them fall. I couldn’t have Dean seeing me cry, even though he currently has me holding onto him koala style. “Cas! Cas, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“B-Balthazar’s at m-my house, Dean. He’s here.” After that I couldn’t help myself. The tears fell down hard, washing over my cheeks and blurring my vision. I held onto Dean tighter, as if he was going to leave me here like a sobbing mess. He could, though, because knowing Dean he doesn’t deal well with emotions or “Hallmark moments” as he likes to call them.

“And that caused you to barge into my house a sobbing mess, because?” he asked, trying to pry me off of him, but I wouldn’t move. “Cas, let go and come over here to sit.” I blushed and let go, following him to his bed. He sat down next to me and just looked at me for a moment. “Now would you like to tell me why you are this upset?”

“The last time I saw Balthazar was… it wasn’t a good memory.” I speak barely above a whisper; even Dean had to lean in to hear exactly what I was saying.

“Why, what happened?” I took a deep breath and told him everything. Everything that happened that night nearly 3 years ago…

_There was no light coming into my room, everything seemed still and quiet. I had just carried a drunken 16-year-old Balthazar into my room and plopped him onto my bed. Sitting with a huff after that task was over, I turned to look at Balthazar, who was snoring soundlessly. I shifted him so he was lying properly on my bed and went to go lay next to him. It was no big deal, seeing as we always would sleep in the same bed. I got as comfortable as I could, before I realized there was a hand on my chest._

_“Uh… Balthazar? What are you doing?” my 15 year old voice asked softly, tilting my head to look at him. His eyes weren’t open but his hands still moved down my bare chest._

_“You know,” he slurred, “You’re very hot… with your blue eyes and solid jawline. I could just kiss you.” I could only stare at him in disbelief. Did I just hear what I thought I heard?_

_“Um, Balthazar, you’re drunk. You have no idea what you’re saying.”_

_“You’ve never heard that a drunken mind speaks a sober heart?” His breath fanned over my face, smelling like booze and cigarette smoke. “Well, it’s true. It’s all true. You’re beautiful.”_

_“Y-You think I’m beautiful?” I asked, completely shell-shocked by his sudden honesty. He gave me a sheepish grin and nodded his head. Before I knew it, his hands were everywhere on me. I couldn’t move, just giving in to his touches and exploration of my chest and arms. Soon he was on top of me, his legs straddling my hips. And that’s when I felt it: his extremely hard cock rubbing against my own softer one. It was then that I put two and two together and pushed Balthazar off of me. “No! Stop it!”_

_“Why gorgeous? You don’t want to be with me? You don’t want to make me happy?” He asked, his pupils suddenly blown up and dark. This scared the living daylights out of me; I’ve never seen Balthazar like this before. Sure he was the touchy-feely type, but he’s never said things like this._

_“Look, Balthazar, I don’t want you in that way. I’m sorry.” I held up my hands in defense._

_“Listen Novak, you’re going to let me get this out of my system and you’re going to shut those cock-sucking lips of yours and let me do what I have to do.” He leaned in close, so close that I could see his bloodshot eyes and smell the booze. I didn’t know what to do. Should I run and tell my parents? Should I punch him? Should I give in?_

_“Balthazar, I don’t want—” I couldn’t finish the rest of my sentence because he leans forward and grabs hold of my neck. I freeze on spot, not wanting him to hurt me anymore than he already is._

_“Shut. Up.” And with that, I didn’t speak another word. His mouth shot to my neck and bit down hard on my pulse point, causing me to cry out in sudden pain. He clamped his hand over my mouth to silence me before continuing to bite down on my neck. He wasn’t even making hickies, just teeth marks. His hand on my throat relaxed and made it’s way to my jeans. That’s when I began to fidget violently under him._

_“Balthazar! No!” I shouted, but he clamped my mouth shut with his lips, hard and forceful. I didn’t close my eyes, nor did I kiss back. I only fought; I fought to get out from under him. His hands continued to roam my body and then went back to my boxers. I felt tears well up in my eyes, as I knew that this was it. I either was going to die, or kill myself after this night._

_His hands touched the skin of my cock and I lost it. Adrenaline pumped in my system as I grabbed hold of his shoulders above me and pushed him off. He looked shocked for a moment, but that gave me enough time to run out of my room and get my parents. But when I went to my parents’ room to tell them what was going on, they didn’t listen to me._

_“Oh Castiel, what happened? Did you have a bad dream?” My mother asked, going over to check if I had a fever. “You are burning up. You must have caught a cold.”_

_Balthazar came in minutes later with a concerned look on his face. If I hadn’t of been with him moments ago when he was lust crazy, I would have believed that he was genuinely concerned. “Cassie! Thank God you went to your parents. He was screaming in his sleep, possibly a nightmare. I just heard him leave the room and wanted to see if he was ok.” That asshole, faking being a good friend._

_“Well, everything’s ok. Why don’t you boys go back to sleep?” My father suggested, only I didn’t want to. Balthazar could have tried to rape me again._

_“Sounds like a plan. Come on Cassie.” I couldn’t have just not gone, so I held my breath and walked to my room. Balthazar turned around with anger in his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted now. Otherwise I would have killed you for trying to tell.” He went over to the bed and passed out the second he hit it. Me, on the other hand, didn’t sleep a wink that night._

~*~

“Cas…” Dean breathed out once I was done telling the story. He wrapped his arms around me and I cried into his shirt, soaking it with my tears (and possibly my snot, but he didn’t seem to mind). “Why didn’t you tell me the second it happened? Why didn’t you come to my house to sleep? You know I would have done something about it! I would have helped you! I could have protected you.”

“I-I know, Dean. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just thought I would never have to see him again after he moved to England. I thought he was gone for good.” My sobs seemed to calm down a bit, but the tears didn’t stop falling. I pulled away from Dean’s body so I could look at him. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips formed a thin line. He didn’t seem happy.

“Cas, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. If I had known…”

“It’s ok, it’s not your fault. Don’t go blaming yourself like I know you always do. I’m fine; it’s just that… I didn’t think I would see him again, and just now he was touching me and I freaked and came here.” I felt my chest tighten thinking about Balthazar and how I’m going to have to eventually come back home and see him.

“Well, you can stay here as long as you need. You know, until Balthazar goes back to England.” Dean gave me a short smile, which I quickly returned.

“Thank you Dean. This… this means a lot that you’re willing to help me.”

“Cas, you’re my best friend. I’ll be there for you no matter what.” He reached for my shoulder in a comforting manner, his eyes never dropping from mine. “And if Balthazar tries anything funny with you, you call me and I’ll beat his British ass, got that?”

I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips, my eyes swelling with fresh tears. “Yes, I got it.”

“Good, come here,” I felt strong arms as soon as he finished speaking, I sunk into the warmth, feeling Dean’s breath on my shoulder as he rubbed small circles on my back. It took me a moment to realize that I was sobbing again, clenching onto Dean like my life depended on it. It took me a moment to calm down, but once I did, I appreciated the comfort; Dean didn’t remove his arms until he felt my breathing even out. When he did move back, I suddenly felt cold, like Dean’s heat was what kept me alive and whole. Now I felt empty. “You feel better?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good, you can sleep here tonight.” Dean moved from the bed and grabbed the extra blankets and pillows he kept in his closet whenever I slept over. When he came back, he pulled his desk chair and put it right in front of his bed. “Go on the floor,” he instructed, that familiar spark in his eyes. He then covered the chair with the blanket and pulled it to the bed, tucking it in to keep it in place. The blanket was a light blue color, so it made the room seem brighter in contrast to the dark sky just outside the windows. He then grabbed the pillows and threw them under the blanket fort, crawling after them to sit next to me. Once we were both under the blanket, we lay down on our backs and looked up at the blocked ceiling.

“I remember this used to calm you down when your parents would argue.” Dean commented, his eyes fixed to the blanket. “We were about 9, and they were having a screaming fit so loud that I heard it from my room. You came over hysterical, my mom thought you were getting abused, and she was damn close to calling your folks and giving them a piece of her mind.”

He chuckled softly at the memory. I slowly began to remember what he was talking about. I would rather not want to think about that time, but I didn’t say anything; I just let Dean continue. “You stood at my door, fiddling your fingers and tears were literally falling from your face. I’ve never seen you look so small, like a breakable doll. I told you everything was going to be all right, and then I decided to make a blanket fort. So we made this, and it was like our own world, separate from the worries of parents and school and bullies. It was just you and me, under this fort.”

Dean stopped talking for a moment, his eyes closed, and he looked at peace. Like remembering all this is clearing his mind and making him stress-free. It was minutes before either one of us realized that we’ve been quiet for far too long. I took a deep breath and sighed.

“God I wish life was this simple. We would just build a fort and forget about all worries.”

“Sometimes life can be this easy, Cas. You don’t need to stress about everything, you know?” Dean finally turns to look at me, his gaze soft yet drilling holes through me. I didn’t realize how close we were; he was merely inches away from me, his breath fanning over my face casually, as if he doesn’t see how this closeness is causing my heart to race.

“You can die without stress.” I point out awkwardly. Dean lets out a soft laugh at that, obviously amused. I look at him closely, counting the freckles on his nose and cheeks, noticing the different shades of green in his eyes. It wasn’t until I felt Dean’s hand brush against mine that I realized I’ve been staring. I quickly look down at our hands, just barely touching but heat still being shared. I felt myself gulp loudly, not wanting to look at Dean again when my face was most likely red.

A moment later, I felt Dean shift closer to me, our entire sides touching. He let out a loud and long yawn before curling into my side with mumbled, “Night Cas” and it took everything in me to not kiss the top of his head. But I did look down at him, how he curled right on me like a small child, when I was the shorter one between us. His hand rested over my chest while his other hand held his head; before long, he was snoring softly on me, a clear sign that he was asleep. Dean was a notorious heavy sleeper, so even if I wanted to do what I wanted to do, he would never know. But just the feeling that I want to do it made my stomach churn. I shouldn’t want to kiss my best friend; I shouldn’t even have these thoughts and feelings.

But it was no use; I knew the truth.

I was falling for Dean.

~*~

Balthazar left after I went to Dean’s house to sleep. My mother said something along the lines of “That was very rude what you did, I hope you realize that.” But honestly, I could care less; I didn’t want to see him at all, I’m happy he’s gone.

A week had passed before Dean and I did the other bucket list idea. I went over his house and sat on his bed, looking at the piece of paper to see our next activity.

**Volunteer your time somewhere**

“You definitely wrote this.” Dean pointed out, shaking his head with a smile.

“What? I think it’ll be fun!”

“Volunteering? God Cas you’re more of a geek than I thought!” I turned to grab his pillow and chucked it at him, hitting him square in the face. He fell back with an “Oof!”

“That’s what you get for calling me a geek!” I laughed, going towards the box and closing it with the list inside. “I know a perfect place to volunteer too.”

“Of course you do.” Dean comments, sitting up and rubbing his cheek as if the pillow caused damage.

“Yep. Come on, you’re driving!”

Walking into the Senior Center, I could tell Dean was a bit grossed out by the smell of sanitizer and old people. I, on the other hand, loved helping the elderlies. I used to come by here to take care of my grandmother before she passed away. I turned to look at Dean with a smirk, noticing his apprehension.

“They aren’t that bad, you know?” I point out, laughing softly as his appearance changed to a more calm and collective one.

“I know, I just… you know how I am about germs.”

“They aren’t dirty, Dean.” I rolled my eyes and we both approached the front desk. The person sitting there seemed to be uninterested about everything going on around him; his face was in a computer as he typed away, ignoring the outside world. “Um, hello there. I’m Castiel Novak, and this is Dean Winchester. We were wondering if there were any volunteer opportunities today.”

“Yeah, here.” The guy said, handing me a piece of paper without even looking up at me. “Go down the hall, there should be a nurse there to help you.”

“Ok, thanks.” And with that we walked over to the hall. There were tabled filled with elderly people, all playing different games and reading their books. There was one nurse helping an old lady who looked up at us as we entered, giving us a huge smile. She wore a plain white coat and a black dress underneath it. Her shoulder length hair was stark black and curled softly, cascading down her neck like a soft waterfall. She was a beautiful lady, and it was obvious she had a wonderful personality.

“Hello there, how can I help you boys?” she asked politely, walking over to us.

“We’re here to help. We’re not sure if there is anyway we can help, but we were wondering if we were allowed…” Dean said. The woman nodded and smiled.

“Yes! Of course! We accept any kind of help we can get. You boys just need to fill out some paper work before I let you help though.” She led us to the office, a small room filled to the roof with drawers and files and papers. “I’m Pamela, by the way, but you can just call me Pam. And you boys are?”

“I’m Castiel, and this is Dean.” I introduced us, giving her a warm smile.

“It’s nice to meet you boys. When you’re done with the paperwork, just come back into the hall and you can start helping. We are starting karaoke night in an hour and you can help give out snacks and drinks.” As she spoke, we filled out our basic information and nodded in approval of our instructions.

It didn’t take long to finish the paperwork and hand it to Pam. She gave us rubber gloves and led us to the kitchen where there was a stack of water bottles and fruit snacks. Dean and I started to hand them out to the people, accepting the gratitude the old people gave us. It felt good to come back here and help out. I looked over at Dean, who was currently stuck talking to an old lady by the name of Mrs. Johnson. She was a cute elderly lady with an affinity to scarves. Dean looked over at me with wide, scared eyes, which caused me to laugh at his misfortune. The time flew by: I talked to a woman about her grandchildren, had a man lose his teeth and made me get them for him, and I even had a woman claim I was her husband. It was an interesting hour, to say the least.

Before long, the karaoke night was about to start. Many people volunteered, singing songs from their adolescence, songs Dean and I didn’t know. We just continued helping the people whenever they needed us as the people sang along to their favorite songs. After the 5th person, Pam went up to introduce another person, however this guy wasn’t an elderly people; he was in his mid-twenties, had blonde combed back hair, and wore the same white coat that Pam wore. She introduced him as “Olly” and the people cheered for him. He must be a regular who comes and entertains the people.

“Hey everyone! I’ll be singing an original song for you guys tonight. Hope you like it. It’s called Dance With Me Tonight.” Olly said, causing the people to cheer louder. The music started and it was an upbeat song, it sounded like a do-wop song, which is why the older people must’ve liked it.

Dean gave me a knowing look, but I wasn’t sure why he was looking at me like he had a devious plan. I cocked my eyebrow in confusion, but that didn’t stop him. He walked—no, more like swaggered—over to me, ripped off his gloves, and held out his hand towards me. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing and I smiled, taking off my gloves as well and accepting his hand.

He pulled me to the center of the ballroom, then turned around to face me, a smirk playing on his lips. I laughed loudly, dipping my head back and closing my eyes. Dean grabbed both of my hands and did some weird dance move where he swung our arms rapidly and tapped his feet to the music. I followed suit and tried to keep up with the music and Dean’s feet.

After the second verse, Dean pulled me out and then spun me towards him, leaving me completely wrapped in his arms. I couldn’t stop laughing, tears were brimming my eyes and my face felt flushed. But Dean wasn’t laughing anymore, he was looking right at me with soft eyes and a small smile. I stopped laughing so loudly and chuckled softly, looking up at him. The bridge of the song began, and that was when Dean twirled me out and continued dancing fast. I danced along with him, holding his hand as we spun around and danced like complete fools.

When the song was close to ending, Dean twirled me again; only this time he spun me like a ballerina—very fast. I started getting dizzy, stopping myself before I hit into something—or someone—and Dean started laughing his full, hearty laugh that causes his eyes to crinkle a bit, and he looked so beautiful at this moment.

The song finally ended and the people cheered, including Dean and I. Olly took a bow and exited the stage. Pam came back on the stage to say that karaoke night was over and that the people had to go to their rooms now. Dean and I helped Pam clean up (even though most of the people cleaned their own plates) and thanked Pam for letting us help out.

“No, thank you for helping. I couldn’t have done this by myself.” She gave us a hug each and watched as we walked to the parking lot to head back home. When we got into the car, I turned to face Dean in the driver’s seat and gave him a knowing look.

“It wasn’t that bad, right?” I asked, noticing how he seemed to smirk at my remark.

“No, in fact, it was a lot of fun.” He turned to face me and I noticed something in his eyes. They seemed almost warm, inviting. Like he wanted to embrace me or something. I couldn’t take my eyes off him; I was in a trance. “I’m glad we came here.”

“Yeah, me too.” I gave him a half smile and turned to face forward. After a moment, I felt the car kick into gear and we were driving home. The sun was just about to set, showing red, orange, and blue blotches where the sun was. Dean pulled up in front of my house, putting the car in park and leaning back against his seat. I turned to face him for the first time since leaving the Senior Center and smiled, getting ready to leave. However, before I could open the car door to leave, I felt Dean’s hand clasp over mine, stilling me instantly.

“Look, Cas, about last week…” I couldn’t let him finish. The memories were still fresh in my head: how it felt to have him flushed against me as he slept, the way his eyes shone under the dim light of the blanket fort, his whispering ghosting my face when he looked at me. I didn’t want to think about any of it.

“Don’t worry Dean, I’m fine now. I appreciate you helping me though.” I smiled. He looked down, biting his lip softly.

“Yeah, right, your welcome.” He paused for a moment, still holding me in place. It seemed like forever when he spoke again, this time looking deeply into my eyes. “Cas, you know that you can tell me anything, right?”

I tried not to look like all the air escaped my lungs. But that’s hard when you feel your eyes bulge out of your head and you let out a soft gasp. However, I don’t think Dean caught it, so I played it off cool and shrugged. “Yeah I know Dean.”

“Ok, good. As long as you know that.” He smiled a toothy grin, finally letting go of my hand. “You’re my best friend, Cas. I wouldn’t want you to feel like you can’t trust me.”

“Not at all Dean. I trust you with my life.” I state honestly, tilting my head.

“Right, ok well… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night Dean.” And with that I left the car, hearing it drive away when my back was turned to it. I looked down at my wrist, the one Dean held. I covered the skin with my other hand and held it up to my heart, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.

I walked into my house feeling like a giddy teenaged girl.

~*~

“Hello Cassie! Long time no see!” Gabe called out in the crowded hallway. I rolled my eyes, irritation flooding my vision.

“Gabe, I saw you the other day.”

“Yeah well it seemed like forever ago!” Gabe came up behind me and slung his arm around my shoulder. He leaned in close, his mouth dangerously close to my ear. “So, how is your love-fest going with Dean-o? Did you guys hook-up yet?”

“Gabriel.” I warned, turning to face him with a hard stare. He backed away and raised his hands in surrender and cocked an eyebrow.

“What? I’m a curious being. I need to know these things.” Before I knew it, he was back to having his arm around me. “You know, you don’t really hide your affection towards him well.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not fooling me, Castiel.” His eyes showed something dark and ominous and that scared me shitless.

“I don’t know what you mean.” I could feel my throat closing like I was having an allergic reaction to his words. He gave me a knowing look, letting go of me and backing away slowly.

“Yes you do. You’ve got a huge man crush on your so called ‘best friend’.” He laughed loudly and it was then that I realized that the hallway was now nearly empty. “Now, how would Dean take it if someone were to tell him that his best friend is gay for him?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Gabe. I’m not gay for Dean. I don’t like him in that way. Now will you just shut up and leave me alone!” My voice echoed in the hall, shocking Gabe silent. He turned to go down the hallway without another word, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sighed, turning to walk to my locker and grabbing my books once I got it open.

As I walked to the staircase to get to my class on the second floor, I couldn’t help but notice a pair of sneakers sticking out from under the staircase. I turned the corner, tilting my head to get a better view of who could be sitting there, when I saw it was Sam. He had his backpack on his lap, his arms wrapped around it protectively, and a blank stare on his face.

“Sam? Are you ok?” I asked, approaching him cautiously. He practically jumped out of his skin and gave me a wide-eyed look. When he realized it was me, he just sighed, his face relaxing.

“Yeah I’m fine. I just… needed a breather, you know?”

“Trust me, I know.” I whisper, going to sit next to him. “What’s up?”

“Ok so, there’s this girl in my geometry class. Her name is Jess, and she’s so pretty and nice and… I think I like her.” He buried his face in his bag, as if he was ashamed to say he had a crush on someone. I gave him a strange look, then reached out to cup his shoulder in my hand.

“That’s not a bad thing, Sam.” I explain softly.

“I know it’s not, but I’m afraid I’m going to make a fool of myself whenever she talks to me.” Sam looked up and stared ahead of him before turning to face me. “She asked me for a pencil once, and I replied that I liked her hair. It was mortifying! I thought she was going to laugh at me and not want to talk to me for the rest of the day.”

“Does she talk to you about other things beside asking for a pencil that one time?”

“It wasn’t one time.” He said matter-of-factly. “She asks for one almost everyday. I’m thinking she’s taking advantage of my and my extreme supply of pencils, but I can’t make myself not give them to her, you know?”

“Sam…” I say with caution, trying to understand the situation. “It seems like her asking you for a pencil is her way of talking to you without actually talking to you.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, his head tilted in confusion, as if this is new information to him.

“She might like you too.”

“Wait, really?!”

“Yeah, I know that if I had an excuse to talk to someone I liked, I’d jump at the chance.” I explained, giving him an encouraging smile. “I say, talk to her, like really talk to her. Get to know her. And who knows? Maybe you will get the courage to ask her out. Or maybe she’ll be the one to make the first move. But you don’t know unless you try.” Those words seemed funny in my mouth, like I was being a hypocrite giving Sam love advice when I was too scared to admit who I loved.

“Thanks, Cas. I really appreciate you helping me.” Sam said with a sincere smile. I patted him on the shoulder, getting up from my sitting position.

“No problem. Anytime you need me, you call me, ok?”

“Ok, thanks again.” And with that, Sam got up and left down the corridor, leaving me alone for a bit before I went to lunch.

~*~

Three weeks passed and they were hectic. Graduation, parties, college days. There was so much to do, and when it all was over, I felt this huge weight come off my shoulders. The summer had finally begun.

I was a bright and beautiful Monday morning—never thought I’d say those two things in the same sentence—when I decided to walk over to Dean’s house to see if he wanted to go to the Back to Summer Fair. When I knocked, Dean opened the door and gave me a huge smile, moving aside to allow me in. I plopped down on his couch and kicked my feet up onto the ottoman in front of me. Dean just sat on the armrest next to me.

“So, I was thinking, we should go to the Back to Summer Fair today.” I explained. “It’s amazing outside, and who knows? Maybe we can cross “Visit a fortune teller” off our bucket list as well.”

“That sounds like a plan!” Dean agreed, and jumped up from his sitting position. I followed suit and we both went outside to get into Dean’s car. As we began to make our way down the street towards the fair, I couldn’t help but look out the window and gaze at the houses passing us by. I would be leaving this place in a few months, leaving these houses and parks and trees… And I couldn’t be more excited.

“I can’t believe we actually graduated.” Dean said, shaking his head in disbelief. “It feels like yesterday our moms were driving us to our first day of 9th grade.”

“Yeah, crazy how time flies.” We fell silent, the hum of the engine was the only sound heard.

“You’re not scared at all for college?” Dean turned his head to look at me for a brief second before turning back to look at the rode. I turned to face him for a long time, and then sighed.

“I’m petrified!” I admitted, leaning my head on my hand. “It’s just that… I need to escape. I need to get out of here. There’s more to this country than Lawrence, Kansas.” I stopped myself from speaking anymore. I haven’t told anyone that before, let alone my own parents. I feel like I just admitted a huge secret that could ruin our friendship if I speak another word. So I stayed quiet and tilted my head down towards my feet.

“I get what you mean.” Dean said softly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel mindlessly. We got to the fair and I got out of the car, taking in the summer air hitting my face. Something about summer had me wanting to jump up and run across a beach with so much joy. I turned to look at Dean, who just smiled and walked over to me. “Where to first?”

“Well,” I said, “Why don’t we start by finding the fortune teller.” I suggested, giving Dean a shrug. He nodded and took my hand, pulling me towards the boardwalk.

“I don’t get why people love going to fortune tellers, though.” Dean said, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “They are a bunch of scam artists who say some weird voodoo shit and get paid for it.”

“Who knows? Maybe this one is legit.” I said hopefully.

“They never are.” We found a small booth with a sign in front that read “Fortune Teller: $30 for a palm reading” and walked under the awning. Dean looked around inside the small booth, a look of dissatisfaction on his face. The man in front of us was hunched over a pile of tarot cards, not paying attention to Dean and I. It wasn’t until he looked up that I felt a chill creep down my spine. The man’s eyes were a deep shade of yellow, something I’ve never seen before. They could have been color contacts, but they seemed too real. His wrinkled face gave us a smirk, his eyes squinting when his cheeks pressed up with his eyes.

“Castiel, Dean… It’s lovely to finally meet you.” The man said with such certainty, like he always knew our names. Dean’s jaw dropped next to me, obviously just as shocked as I was. I was still; the only movement I made was reaching towards Dean’s hand and gripping it tightly, which he did as well. “You’re here for a fortune reading, I presume.”

“Y-Yes… But how do you know who we are?” Dean asked, the braver of the both of us.

“I know everyone. That is, everyone with an interesting future such as you boys.” His smirk gave me more chills. “I am Azazel.”

“Ok, well I would introduce us, but it seems like you already know everything about us.” Dean said sarcastically, going to take a seat in front of Azazel. I followed him and sat in the chair next to Dean. Azazel nodded.

“Yes, so would you like your fortune?” We nodded and Azazel took my hand first. He examined it, his face contorted in distaste for a moment before his face lit up slightly. He looked up and turned to Dean. “You mind going outside for a moment so Castiel and I can have some privacy?” Dean didn’t look so pleased with leaving, so I gave him a brave look and mouthed “It’s ok” and he nodded, leaving me alone with Azazel.

“Why did you want him to leave?” I asked once Dean was outside.

“Because he can’t know about your future.”

“What do you mean? How can I know and he can’t?” I asked. Azazel took my hand once again and looked at it, his skinny fingers tracing every line on my palm.

“Because he can’t know how you feel about him just yet.” My mouth dropped open.

“Wh-what do you mean ‘feel about him’?” I asked dumbly. Azazel must have noticed my bullshit, because he looked up and gave me a look that said ‘you know what I mean you idiot’.

“I mean, how you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not in love with Dean.” I said, very unconvincingly.

“Yes you are.” He said with certainty. I didn’t speak after that, not wanting to give away any information that this creepy man can use against me. “You are going to experience hardships in your relationship. But it will only make you both stronger.”

“Hardships? Like what?”

“Can’t say.” Azazel let go of my hand and leaned back on his chair. “You can bring Dean in, and give us the privacy he gave you and me.” I just nodded and got up, getting Dean and waiting outside. I wasn’t outside long before a girl, about my age (maybe a year or two older), came over to me and leaned against the nearby wall.

“Hello there angelface.” The girl smirked, her dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “And who are you?”

“Cas.” I said simply, not wanting to engage in any kind of conversation with this stranger. However, she didn’t seem to get the hint.

“Cas… I’m Meg. It’s nice to meet you.” I gave her a once over, seeing that she was wearing skinny jeans, a purple top, and a black leather jacket. Her hair was loosely curled and draping over her shoulders perfectly. I had to admit, she was beautiful. But since she gave off the “I have looks that kill, literally” look, I decided to back up just a bit.

“Nice to meet you.” I said softly, giving her a short smile. She eyed me suspiciously, tilting her head towards the tent with a smirk.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were getting the future handed to you on a silver platter. What did the big man say?” Her eyes seemed to darken, like they were just giant pupils.

“Nothing that would concern you.” I heard a voice from behind me and let out a sigh of relief. Dean stood just inches behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder and pulling me away from Meg. “Come on Cas, let’s get out of here before yellow eyes starts chanting some Houdini shit.” And with that, we left. We decided that we should walk along the beach for a bit, seeing as it was still beautiful out and we weren’t here long. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and kicked some sand. Dean walked next to me, his face hard like he was just given bad news (which after coming from a fortune teller, that isn’t good).

“Hey, what did Azazel say to you?” I asked curiously. Dean’s face softened just a bit for a moment before going hard again.

“Nothing important. Just some bullshit that I know isn’t true. What about you?” He turned to face me, and I just coughed and chuckled awkwardly.

“Oh, you know, the usual. You will meet your soul mate… shit.” I mumbled the last part, looking down at the sand being stepped on by my feet. “Well, good news is we can cross that off the list now.” I said optimistically. Dean just smiled and nodded.

“Yeah you’ve got a point, but if you ever drag me to a fortune teller again, I will tell everyone that your mom picked out your clothes until you were 15.” He said with an evil grin.

“You are truly a terrible person Dean Winchester.” I replied, laughing softly as we continued to walk along the everlasting shore.

~*~

Dean decided that we should hang out and have an “All Nighter”. I thought this was a good idea, seeing as my parents were out for the night and Anna was over at her friend’s. I got to Dean’s house around 7 p.m., hearing loud screams from inside. I felt my gut twist, cause I knew those screams. It was the screams that Dean’s parents had when they were fighting. Apparently tonight was one of those nights for the Winchesters, so I texted Dean asking if he would want to come to my house to get out of the house. When a reply came back, I frowned a bit. He said he couldn’t leave Sam in the house with the yelling. I went to call Dean, hearing the phone ring 5 times before Dean answers.

“Hey.”

“Hey. If you want, you and your brother can come to my house. My parents are out for the night and Anna is gone as well.” I suggested, waiting for Dean’s response.

“Are you sure Cas? I wouldn’t want your dad to see me and Sammy and not know why or how we got there.” I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous excuse.

“Don’t worry about my father. Come on, go get Sam and come to my house.” Dean gave in and said he would be over in a bit. I made sure my window was open for him to climb in. When I heard him climbing, I waited by the window to help them in.

Once the boys were inside my room, Dean smiled and hugged me tightly.

“Thanks Cas.” He said softly. I just hugged him back.

“Don’t mention it.” I replied, before clapping my hands. “Alright, so I don’t know about you guys but I’m starving. So what would you guys like? I can make just about anything.”

“Anything microwavable is good. But if you have microwavable mac & cheese, I’d love that!” Dean said. I gave him a glare, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I meant real food, Dean.”

“Microwavable mac & cheese is real food.” He gave me a teasing smirk. I groaned and looked for mac & cheese, realizing that we didn’t have that.

Sam sat on the kitchen chair with his hands folded on his lap awkwardly. He looked like he wanted to speak up, but was fighting against it. Finally, his judgment got the better of him. “Can you make pasta and marinara sauce? Mom was going to make that tonight but…” Dean turned to his brother and glared at him.

“Sammy…”

“It’s ok Dean.” I cut him off. I then turned to Sam and smiled. “I’d be happy to make pasta for you Sam. However we don’t have marinara sauce. Would pasta and butter be ok?” Sam nodded. “Ok then. Would you like pasta too Dean?” Dean just shrugged and I took that as a yes. “Ok then, 3 bowls of pasta and butter coming right up!”

I got everything together to make the pasta and set up my working space. I loved cooking; it was fun and I was sort of good at it. I looked over at Dean, who was leaning against the wall looking at me, a smile etched on his face.

“Sammy, why don’t you go see if there’s any good movies on TV. We can all watch a movie tonight.” Dean suggested, his eyes never leaving mine. Sam jumped out of the chair and went over to the living room. Before long, the only sounds in the house were the whistle of the boiling water and the TV. I focused my attention back to cooking, trying to not think about Dean staring at me. “You know, it was really nice of you to invite Sammy here as well.”

“What kind of person would I be if I left him to suffer?” I responded.

“Yeah, well, he’s been getting the worse of it. He’s a deviant kid and my dad hates that. I just wish…” He stopped for a moment, looking over at where Sam was sitting on the couch scanning the channels. I saw a smile spread on his face. The way Dean loved his younger brother was truly beautiful; he would do anything for the younger Winchester and it made my heart warm. “I just wished he doesn’t end up like me.”

“Like you? What would be so terrible if he grew up like you?” I asked, confused. I left the counter and turned to face Dean, my head tilted in confusion.

“It’s just, he’s so smart, Cas. He’s like a mini Einstein! The kid can solve just about any math question given to him. He’s a wiz in science and talks about how he is going to become a lawyer one day.”

“That’s wonderful, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less than him. Nor does it mean that if he grew to be more like you, it would be a bad thing.”

“You kidding? I’m going to college to be a mechanic! A freaking mechanic! I’m going to be fixing cars for the rest of my life while this kid has the potential to make it big in this world!” I could see tears brim his eyes, but he turned his face away from me before any could fall.

“Do you not want to be a mechanic, Dean?” I asked him. He looked at me like I was insane.

“Are you kidding?! That’s all I’ve dreamed about as a kid! Being under a car and fixing it, getting grime and grease under my nails and having a broken car come to life because of me… it’s everything I love.” He finished softly. I walked towards him, getting a bit closer and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“So why do you speak of your future as if it’s a bad thing?” I asked, my head tilted. “Whether you become a mechanic, a doctor, a painter, or a freaking clown! As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters. And another important thing is to be the best in what you do. So if you want to be a mechanic, be the best mechanic in the nation. Have your name live famously for what you love.” I ended with a smile, patting his shoulder where my hand was. He turned to look at me, his eyes wide and shined with tears. It wasn’t long before Dean smiled back at me and wrapped me in his arms.

“Thank you Cas. You’re the best friend any guy could ask for.” Dean mumbled into the nape of my neck. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel my heart break just a bit at the word “friend”, but I honestly didn’t know why. We pulled away from each other’s arms after a while, just in time for the pasta to finish cooking.

“Right well, how about we start eating.” I said, turning to get the bowls and pour the pasta into each bowl and placing the bowls on the table. Once that was done, I went into the fridge and got the bar of butter, bringing it over to the table. “Winchesters, I give you ‘Castiel’s Amazing Pasta and Butter Meal’!”

“Thanks again Cas!” Sam said as he sat down, beginning to dig into his pasta.

“Your welcome!” And with that, we all ate and talked about nonsense things, but it was still nice. Sam spoke about his crush, Jess, with added teasing from Dean. I attributed to the conversation to ask Sam if he knows if she likes him back. He blushed at that and explained that she did but didn’t want to date because her parents were strict like that.

“That stinks Sammy. Your first crush and you get thrown into the some 1950s Disney princess movie where the parents hate anyone with a dick.” Dean commented, taking another bite of his pasta.

The night went on and we all decided to go watch a movie inside. The movie Dean wanted to watch—the original Ghostbusters—wasn’t on, so we ended up watching Mrs. Doubtfire, which is a fan favorite for all of us so no one complained. We were all on the long couch, Dean in between Sam and me, enjoying the film. Every time Robin Williams would say a funny line, I would feel the whole couch shake from our laughter. Before long, the clock read 11:27 p.m. and Sam was fast asleep and Dean was not far from passing out as well.

“So much for our all nighter.” I whispered into his ear jokingly. Dean groaned and turned around so his back was facing me and curled into a ball and slept. I chuckled at his childish behavior and got up to get blankets to cover them with. After retrieving the blankets and covering the brothers, I headed to my room, changed into more comfortable clothes, and went to sleep on my bed. I pulled the blanket over my shoulder and fell asleep.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that I heard someone talking. I instantly recognized that it was Sam; he sounded upset and distressed and seemed to be talking to Dean. I slowly got out of bed, making sure I didn’t make a noise, and tiptoed to my door so I could hear better. It was then that I could hear Dean as well.

“Sammy, it’s 1 in the morning and we aren’t home. I don’t want to wake up Cas.”

“Please Dean, it’s the only thing that helps.”

I could hear Dean chuckle at that. “You’re 14 years old and you still need my help going to sleep.”

“It’s not just going to sleep Dean, and you know it!” Sam argued quietly. There was silence for a moment before Sam begged Dean again for something that I wasn’t sure about. However, whatever it was, it seemed to be important to Sam.

“Ok ok, but if we wake Cas, I’m blaming you and your stupid nightmares.” There was silence for a moment and suddenly, there was beauty being heard. It was singing… Dean was singing. Dean’s voice took up the entire space of my house, a sound like sweet wine yet so strong. I was frozen in my spot, my legs beginning to go numb from the lack of movement. I didn’t recognize the song—something about wild mountains or something—but that didn’t make it any less beautiful. The song ended too quickly for my liking, but I could hear Sam protest, asking for another song. I silently thanked Sam for making his brother sing again, this time a Kansas song that I constantly hear playing in Dean’s car. But his version was soft, almost like a lullaby. I slid down the door, sitting by it and leaning against the door as my eyes drooped to the calming tune. It wasn’t long before I felt my consciousness fade; the last thing I heard was Dean’s voice singing me to sleep.

~*~

I woke up to soft banging on my door then the door opening slightly. However it couldn’t open any further because I was leaning against it. Wait… when did I get here?! I had to go back into my mind and remember what happened last night. Last thing I remembered was being wakened up by Sam talking and… Dean singing. Are you kidding me? I fell asleep while listening to Dean sing his brother to sleep; if there’s any creepy thing I’ve ever done in my life, this surpassed it.

“Cas? You ok buddy?” Crap! It’s just the person I don’t want to see right now.

“Uh, yeah Dean. Sorry, I’m getting up now.” I jumped up on my feet and practically flew to my bed, covering myself in the blankets as quickly as humanly possible. “You can—erm, come in now.”

Dean opened the door and stepped inside, coming over to sit on the bed. His hands rested on his lap and his fingers began drumming absentmindedly on his thighs. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and that scared me. But when he did say something, it wasn’t any better than the silence.

“I’m sorry if Sam and I woke you up last night. He gets these… nightmares, and the only way to calm him or make him sleep better is if I…” He stopped for a moment, taking that time to look up at me. “Is if I sing to him. It calms him down or something.” I just stared at him and didn’t speak a single word. Dean gave a short chuckle and shook his head. “So yeah, if you woke up cause of my horrendous singing, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I can’t.” I whispered. That definitely took Dean by surprise. He tilted his head at me, a look of pure shock and confusion etched on his face.

“I-I’m sorry Cas, I promise it won’t happen again. The next time Sam has a bad dream with you around and you’re sleeping I wo—”

“I can’t forgive you because there’s nothing you should be sorry for.” I interrupted him, a small smile on my face as I saw Dean’s expression go from confusion to shock to the ‘I can’t believe you fooled me you son of a bitch.’

“So you’re not mad at me or Sammy?” he asked to make sure. I just chuckled and shook my head.

“Of course not. If anything, I’m shocked. I-uh I didn’t know you were a good singer, Dean.”

“You thought that was good?! Dang Cas you are either really deaf or haven’t listened to actual good singers.” He stated, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No I’m not deaf, you really are good Dean. I never knew you were that good!”

“Yeah yeah, well if you want, Sammy and I made you breakfast.” He hopped off the bed and walked towards the door, before turning around at the doorway. “We made French toast, so come get it while it’s hot.”

“You boys didn’t have to make breakfast.” I argued, getting off the bed and walking towards Dean.

“Oh yes we did. Cas, you let us crash on your couch when our parents were having World War 3. The least we can do is give our thanks by making you some kick-ass French toast! Now come on, we even got strawberries!” he gave me a quick wink and turned to the kitchen, leaving me for a moment in pure bliss.

The clock in the kitchen read 11:15 a.m. and Sam was dipping the bread in the cinnamon-y goo and placing it in a pan. The smell coated the entire room, spreading to every crevice of the kitchen. I sat down at the table next to Dean, giving him a small smile as he gave one to me. Sam turned around to face me and grinned.

“Cas! I hope you like French toast, cause that’s the only thing I really know how to make.” Sam said, biting his lip as if I would be mad at him.

“I love it, thank you very much.”

“Great! Dean said you would. He said it’s your favorite!” I turned to Dean with a cocked eyebrow, seeing as Dean turned the other way and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Is that right Dean?” I asked, not taking my eyes off of Dean. Dean then turned back around and shrugged.

“What? Can’t a guy tell his brother to make his best friend’s favorite breakfast food?” Dean got up to check the French toast, allowing Sam to sit down—which he accepted graciously. Once all the French toasts were done, we all sat down together and ate them, talking about random things and laughed our butts off over silly things. I never thought I would be happier than I was in this moment, having two of my best friends here, eating French toasts with them, and feeling Dean’s legs graze mine every once and a while. I tried not to think about it that much, thinking I would start blushing and be asked why I was doing so. So instead, I joined in on the conversation and smiled.

~*~

It’s been 3 weeks since I’ve seen Dean.

Part of me was nervous that something happened. The other part of me was nervous that I had done something. And a small part of me thought that Dean might be avoiding me. I tried not to think about that though, instead, focusing on college—which was only a month and a half away. I made a portfolio with all my writing, checking each one with care, and even counted to make sure I had the right amount of stories. It was then that I felt my heart clamp in my chest, blood freezing in my body.

I couldn’t find my recent story.

In theory, it’s shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but this was different. This story was basically my journal with everything to do with Dean and my weird feelings and everything I’ve been thinking about for the last 4 months.

I ripped apart my room, trying to find it in the creases of my bed, or the holes in my closet. But I came back with nothing. I started to panic, thinking of the worse possible thing that could happen: Dean found it and started reading it.

My chest tightened as I leaned back against the wall next to my closet, fingers going up to tangle into my hair. I started hyperventilating, hoping that Dean didn’t find it…

But my luck is a piece of shit.

~*~

My phone rang. After being quiet for days, it finally rang. I looked at the caller ID and noticed Sam’s name. Not exactly the Winchester I wanted to talk to, but Sam is still a good kid, so I answered.

“Hey Sam. What’s up?”

“Cas… Dean is acting strange…” the younger Winchester said quietly, as if he was hiding the fact that he was talking to me.

“Strange how?”

“Like, he’s always in his room, and hasn’t come out except to eat. And when I asked him if he was going to hang out with you, he lashed out at me. Like he was… angry at you.” Sam spoke. My heart shattered, feeling the air escape my lungs. “D-Did… something happen between you guys?”

“Uh-I…I don’t know.” I answered honestly, then hung up on Sam without another word.

Could it be? Dean must have found my journal and now knows I like him and now hates me. It felt like my entire world was closing in on me, the corned of my room getting dangerously closer to me and suffocating me. I felt like the only thing I could do was talk to Dean and try to explain everything.

So that’s what led me to stand in front of his house, staring at the familiar wood door before lifting my closed hand to knock at it. I only waited a minute before Mary Winchester opened the door with a friendly smile, letting me in.

“Oh hi sweet heart. How are you? It’s been a while since I’ve seen your handsome face.”

I gave the woman a small smile. “I know. I was hoping Dean would be home. I…I wanted to talk to him.”

Mary’s face turned sad as she licked her lips quickly and sighed. “He went out a few hours ago. No indication where he was going. He’s been a bit… on edge lately. None of us know why. I would think you’d know, but it seems like you don’t.”

I bit my lip, looking down at the floor, then inhaled deeply before looking back up at Mary’s face. “I-uh… feel like I have an idea as to why he’s acting this way. And… it’s my fault.”

“Oh sweetie,” Mary reached forward, placing her small hand on my shoulder. “Whatever it is, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed with a little bit of communication and explanation. Whatever you did, I’m sure Dean will forgive you.”

“I don’t think so…” I admitted sadly, giving Mary one last look before turning to exit the house. As I walked back home, I couldn’t help the tears from falling from my eyes, running down my cheeks as the warm summer air hit my face. All I felt was pain filling my heart and shrinking my lungs, making it hard for me to breathe.

Once I got home, I ignored my sister’s calls and my father’s eyes and went into my room and fell onto my bed and cried. And cried. And cried some more. Until the tears couldn’t fall anymore, and it hurt to breathe, and my chest heaved. I cried until the next day, tears soaking my pillow and clothes clinging to my sweaty body. I didn’t notice anyone coming into my room, and frankly, I didn’t care.

I was hurting.

~*~

It wasn’t till later that week that I saw Dean, and I really wish I hadn’t.

I decided to stop by the hardware store to see if he was there. As much as Dean was trying to avoid me, we needed to talk. I walked into the store and saw Bobby working on a car. I didn’t want to bother the man, but it seems like I didn’t have to, cause he was turning to face me with a hard, yet strangely friendly face.

“Dean’s out back, if you’re looking for him. But I’d be careful. He’s working with an engine right now, and is in a mood.” I nodded at Bobby, then turned to walk into the back. And there he was, but he wasn’t working on any engines. Instead, he held a crowbar and was beating the shit out of an old Volkswagen. His gray tee shirt was drenched with sweat, hands dirty as they held the metal tightly. He just kept going at it, beating the car as if it had done something personal to him, hurt him in a way unexplainable. Dean kept going, banging the crowbar down on the hood of the car and grunting angrily with each blow.

I stayed silent, not wanting to have him know I was here just yet. Part of me needed to see this, see Dean lose control. It was so unlike him. He’s normally so collected and calm. Sure he had his outbursts, but he never went this crazy. I’ve never seen him be violent.

With one last blow, Dean’s hands shakily held the hood of the car, leaning forward as his chest heaved. I watched as Dean’s head lolled down, arms shaking as the crowbar clattered to the ground. Then, I hear a whimper coming from Dean, a small sound that seemed to echo throughout the area.

“Why…” Dean whispered, unknowing to me standing just a few yards behind him. “Why did you do this to me?”

I stayed silent for a few more minutes, then my body felt the courage to walk over to him. I took a few steps forward, tilting my head a bit to the side as my voice let out a quiet, “Dean.”

Dean turned to face me, head whipping quickly to stare with wide eyes at me. His face was a mix of shock and pain and anger, and I really didn’t like that at all.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, eyes still wide and voice shaking a bit.

“I… We need to talk, Dean.”

“No we don’t. There’s nothing to talk about.” Dean stubbornly said, turning his back towards me. “Please leave.”

“No.” My voice stern as I grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face me again. “I’m not leaving till we talk. You owe me at least that for not speaking to me for weeks.”

“I owe you?!” Dean asked, voice loud. He took a step forward into my face, eyes getting hard. “I owe you nothing!”

“Really?” I yelled back, chest puffed out as my eyes bore into his. “You stop talking to me for weeks and I find out you’ve been acting like a huge dick to your friends and family and I’m coming here to talk and you are treating me like shit. So yeah, you owe me an explanation.”

“You want an explanation?! I just found out my best friend, that I’ve known for 13 years, is gay!” The reality of those words hit me like a brick. I just stared at him, mouth open as I saw his face change from red-hot anger to pain. “Why Cas?”

“Why what?!” I yelled, angry tears falling from my eyes. “Why am I gay? Why did I fall head over heels in love with my best friend, when it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same for me? Why did I fuel my imagination that anything could happen between us? I don’t know Dean, why is that?! Why?!"

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked quietly. I nearly scoffed in his face, but instead I just shook my head unbelievably.

“Because I feared that you’d be afraid to talk to me again. That you’d never want to see me again. That you were disgusted by me.” I looked him dead in the eyes, stepping back a bit. “And you proved my fears to be true.”

I turned away, not wanting to see Dean’s face anymore. It hurt too much. But also, I didn’t want him to see mine, and the tears brimming my eyes. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction in knowing that I was breaking over this. He didn’t deserve to know that.

I tried not to pay attention to the sound of a crowbar smashing a car.

~*~

I got another call from Sam a few days later. I was working on some poetry for my portfolio when my cell phone buzzed, shaking the table.

“He really misses you, Cas.” Sam says softly on the other end.

I sighed, lifting my hand to rub at my face, then bit my lower lip. “Didn’t seem like it the last time I saw him…”

Sam was silent for a moment, and I was sure he had hung up, until I heard his voice, so small as if the words he spoke had the power to shatter reality. “I hear him… At night, he cries himself to sleep…”

My mouth hung open in shock, not entirely sure how to take that. It seemed as though Dean wanted nothing to do with me anymore. His attitude the last time I saw him was obvious. But the thought of Dean even shedding a single tear over me was… it was a weird feeling. Dean normally was so strong, he never let anyone see him cry—literally and figuratively. He was always the one to hold me when I would break down in tears, caress my face and make sure I was ok. A sickening feeling grew in my gut as I imagined how his perfect green eyes would look red and bloodshot from the tears pouring from his face.

“He loves you, Cas…” Sam said after what felt like an eternity. “I don’t know in what way, I don’t even know how much. But it must be a hell of a lot if he’s crying over missing you so much.”

“He doesn’t…” I tried to say, but a lump started to form in my throat.

“Yes he does!” Sam’s voice seemed to grow, stern on the other end. “You don’t know how he is when you’re not around. He’s always thinking of what to do with you. That summer bucket list idea took him days to think of!” I stayed quiet, listening to Sam take a deep breath before continuing, “He only ever wants to make you happy and smile and wants you to have a good time, no matter what you guys do. When he read your short stories, I remember how happy he was for you, how he praised your talent like he was praising a god.

“After he found out what happened to you and Balthazar, right after you left, he started screaming and punching and kicking the wall. He was so angry that someone hurt you, Cas. He even was talking shit like how he wanted to fly to England and beat Balth to death. Actual death! He mumbled over and over again, paced his room a million times, saying how you didn’t deserve that. That you didn’t deserve it at all.

“I don’t care what he told you. I don’t care about what fucking bullshit he said cause you and I both know Dean has a tendency to say stupid shit. He loves you. He loves you so much.”

I didn’t speak. I just remember hanging up the phone, not wanting to listen to what Sam had to say anymore. I threw the phone across the room, watching as it hit the wall and tumbled to the floor, laying on the ground in chipped plastic and cracked glass.

The phone kept ringing.

I kept writing.

~*~

It was a sunny day.

My suitcases and boxes were all lined up outside by the moving van, waiting to be loaded and shipped all the way to Boston. I gave it a melancholy look as I took the last of the luggage out and packed it onto the truck. The other line of boxes and baggage came afterwards, one box standing out more than the rest.

It was filled with Dean’s things. Pictures, books, tee-shirts, games, everything you could think of. Things that he left at my house that I claimed as mine, things he gave me because he thought I’d appreciate them better, things he wanted me to have. So many things that now looking at them, they made me want to scream and holler and throw a tantrum. But I couldn’t. Not now.

We were almost done loading the truck when I heard screeching tires and slamming of doors. I looked up to find the one person I didn’t want to see right now. His green gemstone eyes were filled with anxiety and worry, and I couldn’t look at him any longer. I casted my eyes downwards, staring at the interesting grass blades as they moved in the wind.

“Cas, buddy, please look at me.” I heard him beg. I bit my lip, shaking my head no.

“Dean I can’t. I can’t do this now, not after everything that happened. I just can’t.” I tell him, my eyes starting to sting from the tears that wanted to fall.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but if you just come with me for 5 minutes, you’ll understand. Just give me 5 minutes.” I wanted to follow him, I wanted to so badly. But my mind and heart were on separate pages: my mind telling me ‘no, this is a bad idea’, and my heart telling me ‘follow him, you love him after all’. I gave him one last look before turning to my parents. My father stood unfazed by this scene, my mother bit back a grin and nodded yes, and Anna smiled widely, her eyes telling me ‘go’.

“Ok, 5 minutes Dean, then I have to get back here and leave.” I could already see Dean’s eyes sparkle with mischief, like how they always used to when he was about to embark on an adventure. Only this time, he wasn’t telling me what this adventure was. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the Impala, opening the door for me as I got in the passengers seat. He went around the car and sat in the drivers seat and took off at practically 50 mph. “Dean, what’s going on? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Trust me, you’ll love it.” That was all he said. We stopped in front of an abandoned house, the windows were punched through and the door looked like it was going to fall off its hinges any minute.

“You took me to an abandoned house and expect that I love it?” I ask him outrageously, getting out of the car and standing to take in the scene. Dean got around to stand in front of me. It took me a moment to realize that he was really close. I could count every individual freckle on his face; see every different shades of green in his eyes. It reminded me of the night we made the blanket fort, the night when I told Dean about what happened with Balthazar. I remembered the feeling I felt that night, the urge to kiss him senseless. And that scared me. A lot.

“Follow me.” He whispers softly, holding out his hand for me to take. I give him a strange look then slowly grab his hand as he pulls me behind the house. The back of the house was completely open and barren; yellow stains left patches on the originally green grass, and weeds seemed to be everywhere. I looked at Dean with suspicious intent when he smiled and stepped closer towards me. “You know something?”

“What?” I ask, my voice barely audible.

“We forgot to do one thing on the bucket list.” He comes closer (if that is even possible) and slowly moves his hand to my face, caressing my cheek ever so softly.

“Really, and what’s that?” My heart is racing and I could barely breathe. He gives me a sly look, his eyebrow cocked upwards and a suggestive grin

“This.” Dean tilts his head up, using his free hand to cup his mouth to amplify his voice and shouts, “Now Sammy!”

Before I know it, I feel wet droplets hit my shoulders and head. I look up to see Sam on the roof of the house, holding a hose, and aiming it towards us. My head tilts in confusion as I look back at Dean, but I only get to see his face for a moment before his hands are cupping the sides of my face and his lips are on mine.

To say I was in shock would be the understatement of all understatements. I gasped, pulling back slightly, giving Dean a wide-eyed look of confusion.

“D-Dean…”

“Shut up Cas… shut up and let me kiss you.” He whispers, leaning down to kiss me again, this time I let him. His lips covered mine and were warm and soft and chapped. So chapped I felt the need to wet them. My eyes closed and my hands found the back of Dean’s neck to pull him further down to me. I felt his hands reach for my waist and I let out a sigh of satisfaction. It was then that I realized we were both soaking wet from the hose Sam was pointing at us. I pulled away, slower this time, and gave him the same confused look.

“Dean… I don’t get it.”

“Here’s what you need to get. I like you, a lot, Cas.” He smiled and moved his thumb over my lips mindlessly as his eyes locked onto mine. “I think I’ve liked you since we were 5. I think this summer, I realized that I liked you but I was—I don’t know—scared? That seems like a lame excuse, I know. But… Cas, you’re amazing.” I had to look down before he noticed the intense blush appearing on my cheeks. However, I wasn’t that successful because he lifted my face with his pointer finger and locked eyes with me once again. “You’re beautiful, smart, kind, giving, considerate, and a million other amazing things. You saw me as me and never judged me. You embarked on my silly adventures with me as a kid. You were the only one who got me, who knew me inside and out. You know the real me, Cas, and you still loved me.”

“But, why tell me now? An hour before I have to leave.”

“Because if I didn’t, I would have lived the rest of my life with pure guilt.” He gave me a soft smile and rubbed his thumb over my temple. He reached his other hand and cupped the other side of my face. I reached up and held onto his hands, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

“Dean I—”

“Shut up, don’t say anything. Just kiss me again.” And I did just that. This kiss was more forceful. It was a kiss that showed me that he truly loved me, that this wasn’t some sick joke or wonderful dream; this was real. I was really kissing Dean Winchester.

“Yo Dean! If you’re done sucking face with Cas, I need to pee!” Sam called from the rooftop. We pulled away and laughed, my head thrown back in a full blown out cackle. Dean just smiled at me when I came back up to stare at him.

“You really are beautiful.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss me quickly. I felt my cheeks heat up again, my fingers fiddling absentmindedly. Sam turned off the hose above us, the droplets of water were still dripping from my head. Dean held out his hand, that sparkling look in his eye, the same sparkle that meant he wanted to explore a new adventure. And this was sort of the same thing; we were exploring something new with these feelings. I took his hand graciously and followed him to the Impala, going around to the passenger’s seat. Dean got into the driver’s seat and turned to face me. I gave him a wide toothy smile, which he returned, and then he put the car in reverse, going to the side of the abandoned house to pick up Sam.

Sam got into the back seat, a shit-eating grin on his face as he looked between us. “So, you guys a couple now?”

I gave Dean a questioning look, as if asking him the same question, wanting his permission. Dean turned to face his brother with a smirk.

“We’ve always been a couple. A couple of crazy people.” He then turned to look at me and winked. “Only this time, hopefully, Cas can be the only crazy person in my life.” I just smiled and nodded, causing Dean to smile as well. “Good.” And with that we drove back to my house, transporting something new along with us; a new relationship. As we crossed the road, I looked out the car window and stared up at the blue sky. The clouds moved and shifted above me and I could have sworn I saw them write “DW + CN”. I smiled. It was then that I felt, deep in my soul, that this wasn’t the end; it was a whole new beginning.

~*~

**Charlie flipped the last page, the now finished story sitting her desk. She smiled at the closed book, laughing softly to herself before picking up her phone, dialing Castiel’s number and waited for the man to pick up. The phone rang four times before the familiar raspy voice answered.**

**“Hello Charlie. How did you like it?”**

**“I loved it Cas.” Charlie said honestly.**

**“Thank you.” Cas said simply. The two talked for a moment about the story and how the publishing process should go when Castiel hears a familiar—and beautiful—voice call.**

**“Cas!” Cas smiled to himself, telling Charlie over the phone that he has to go. They hung up and Cas turned around to face his husband. He is much more built than he was when he was 18, but he still has that same spark in his deep, green eyes.**

**“You know you can’t interrupt my creative thinking until 5pm.” Castiel complained, a fake pout on his lips. Dean just smiled and leaned down to kiss said pouted lips. “Kissing me won’t make me forgive you.”**

**“What if I did a little more than kissing?” He asked, a smirk playing his lips.**

**“Then I might consider it.” Castiel got up out of the chair and cupped Dean’s face, giving him a sweet and long kiss.**

**“Whoa,” he said after a while. “You still leave me breathless, even after 10 years.”**

**“I hope to still leave you breathless after 50 years.” Castiel said, stepping back and walking out the door. Dean followed after him to the bedroom and closed the door behind him.**

**~*~**

**Charlie smiled, turning the book over so the front cover was facing up, and flipped through the story again mindlessly, when she notices another page. A page she hasn’t read yet.**

**Right after the dedication—Castiel makes the same dedication with every book he writes so Charlie didn’t think to really read it—there was a single page, which was nearly empty except for one line of text. Charlie read it over and over again, a warm feeling of joy spreading across her body. Her long, thin fingers traced over the slightly raised letters and it was then that Charlie knew what the story was about . . . . .**

**_For Dean, for even after 23 years, you have the same sparkle in your eyes._ **

**_This is the story about how I fell in love with you…_ **


End file.
